Devil's Pianissimo
by Todoka Ayane
Summary: When his past begins to haunt him again after 9 years, Orihara Izaya knows that he doesn't have many benefiting options to select from. "Shizu-chan, I need your help." "You need my what?" Albeit against his morals, Izaya crushes his pride, and... "Protect me. Please." Shizaya. Warnings inside.
1. It Started Like Any Other Wednesday

**A/N: In all honesty, this is my first time writing. I hope it is bearable.**

 **Summary – When his past begins to haunt him again after 15 years, Orihara Izaya knows that he doesn't have many benefiting options to select from. "Shizu-chan, I need your help." "You need my** _ **what**_ **?" Even if it would cost him everything, he was going to survive this. "Protect me." Shizaya.**

 **WARNING: Explicit themes, such as torture, abuse, etc. If you don't like it? Well, there's nothing I can do about that.**

 **Update: Special thanks to my beta-reader, KSdees! She did a great job editing this chapter and I really appreciate her effort.**

* * *

 **The First File:**

" **It Started Like Any Other Wednesday"**

 _Falling._

 _Hurting._

 _Tortured…_

 _Who am I?_

 _What is this?_

" _Izaya."_

 _ **RRRRRIIINNNGGGG!**_

"Nngh…"

His morning started off with the alarm that once again, interfered his sleep. _Well, that was a terrible dream to start off a nice Wednesday._ "Bleh." Attempting to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, the man spat into his sink, and then admired his beautiful face in the mirror. "Divine."

Stroking his jawline, he proceeded to grabbing his toothbrush to coat it with the mint-colored paste. The refreshing flavor burst in his mouth, waking his dreary head up. _To dream of something so ancient, so uncanny…_ He threw up the contents into the bowl. "Must be some kind of curse."

His closet was packed with different shades of dark clothing. Yanking the black long-sleeved shirt and auburn pants out of their place, he peeled off his thin pieces of clothing. The thick, rancorous feeling still loomed over his body, which deepened the crease near Izaya's brows.

"Tch." He flung the door open, caring less about the violent impact it caused on his doorknob that collided with the wall.

The acrimonious sight of his secretary didn't enhance his sour mood.

"Oh, look who seems to be feeling _fabulous_." Sarcasm literally dripped from her tone.

"On unarguable terms, I am indeed, very fabulous, Namie." He forcefully placed a sly smile on his face.

In return, she rolled her eyes and flicked her pen in the air. "As if."

Slumping down on his chair, Izaya twisted his position towards his computer. His daily schedule was to check his inbox – it was how he made a living, after all.

 _ **[You have 5 new mails.]**_

Three of them were spam, and one was from Shinra – he was probably drunk, because he had written down biological nonsense in the email regarding polygenetic traits of human beings. But then there was one email from an ID he did not recognize – it was untitled.

 _Click._

 _ **[I know you, Orihara Izaya.]**_

The renowned informant paused, and took a good few seconds to stare at the text. It was a quite odd mail, considering some points: firstly, everyone that lived long enough in Ikebukuro _knew_ the name, Orihara Izaya. Secondly, none of his clients ever addressed him in such mannerisms – meaning, nobody ever called him by his full name. Lastly, which was what disturbed him the most, was that this was his more secluded email account – only those of the Awakusu-kai and ranked others were aware that the owner of this email was Izaya.

 _ **[There is one image attached.]**_

 _Click._

With slight hesitation, he clicked on the attached image. It loaded slowly, and he waited.

At first he thought it was some sort of virus as the displayed picture was just black – but within the darkness, he could make out a slim silhouette – perhaps of a little boy. There was something about the overall ambience of the image that crept him out – and it was scarce that anything ever crept him out.

 _A prank?_ He bit the side of his lip. _Or…_

"Izaya, don't you have an appointment in two hours?"

"Appoint- oh, right." _Fuck you, Shiki-san._ Shiki Haruya – one of the executives for the Awakusu-kai. In close relations with Izaya, they were mere business partners with a systematic affiliation that was based off money, and filthy benefits. Filthy, but lucrative. "Hah…" _I'd love to see this morning get better anytime soon._

"Namie, don't steal anything~" Playfully speaking, Izaya skipped out of his condo with said secretary screeching his cursed name behind him with much ferocity.

The meetings he had with the Awakusu-kai were one of the more bothersome ones. Of course, they were irreplaceable partners in crime for Izaya. But that didn't change the base of their relationship that traced back about 15 years – and mentioned 15 years was Orihara Izaya's dark ages.

"I~ZA~YAAAAAAA~!"

 _Out of the fantastic 365 days God has given for him to choose,_ Izaya groaned, _he just had to choose today._

The man that was sprinting towards him with incredible speediness with another vending machine in his hands was the strongest man in Ikebukuro, Heiwajima Shizuo. Also read as 'Orihara Izaya's fucking worst enemy'. He sensed blocks of air being penetrated behind, and jumped into the smoky atmosphere, just in time to dodge the ricocheting vending machine.

"What a delight, Shizu-chan!" Izaya sneered at the growling wild animal on the road. "It's a great pleasure to see you here, but much to my dismay, I have an appointment to attend to. If this lovely brawl could just wait a few hours –"

"Now!" Barked Shizuo, "I need to kill you _now_!"

"I thought so. But too bad, little Shizu-doggy will have to wait. Can you do that?"

"SHIZU-DOG –"

"Ja ne, Shizu-chan~!" Leaping towards the opposite side of the wall, Izaya displayed his wondrous, polished parkour skills. He could literally hear the fucking footsteps of that brainless protozoan a few unsafe meters behind him, undoubtedly with a new vending machine as he chased after him like predator after his prey.

Just that, Orihara Izaya had absolutely no plans in acting out the role of the 'prey' in this scenario. If Heiwajima Shizuo was the belligerent lion, then Izaya was the cunning hyena that waited for the appearance of the said lion to fall directly into his nice trap.

 _I'm sorry, Shizu-chan, but I don't fight a losing battle._ He considered that for a while. _Screw that, I'm not sorry._

The Awakusu-kai headquarters arrived in view, and the slim man made a sharp turn just in time for Shizuo to lose sight of him. Lightly landing on the rusty cement, the sardonic informant made his entrance into the organization in business.

"Well, well, Izaya-san," Shiki Haruya, executive of the Awakusu-kai welcomed him with his usual cordial, polite gesture and tone. "You're early."

"No surprises there." The first thing Izaya did was to examine the room – a habit that developed from the nature of his profession. Witnessing for himself that nothing to pull on his strings of suspicion was present, he sank into the comfy cushions of the leather sofa. "Anyway, what role do I get in today's play?"

Shiki smoothly took out his cigarette, as his subordinate quickly lighted it for him. "It's simple enough, really."

"Oh, but that's what you always say, Shiki-san. I would be delighted to inform you how many bones I had broken after your offers!" Sure, Izaya only broke a few bones, but his enemies pretty much died. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. The pay is more than good here, and there is a unique entertainment I gain."

"Well, as I was saying," A puff of light gray smoke traveled up the atmosphere, "it's simple enough. At least, the content of the job is." The middle-aged executive reached for a pile of papers. "This," he slid one of the papers in front of Izaya, and the male brought it up to his face for closer inspection. "Is the information my men were able to gather. Solid facts. Less satisfactory than what you could've done, but it was the best we could play off."

Izaya's stomach churned upon reading through the printed text.

All because he knew this said organization a little too well.

"- They are a yakuza family that is quite renown here for their drug trade and smuggling incidents near the ports. And also –"

"Human trafficking." Izaya finished, as he placed the papers on the table. "The head is Uesugi Kugaha. Chief executives include Goshiki Masamune, Eisuke Kon, and Nejima Katsu. They are known as the Uesugi-kai, and are prominent figures that dwell near Waseda."

Shiki merely listened as Izaya talked. "You seem to be knowledgeable regarding this matter. The only job you had was to find information about their illegal drug trade near the ports – as a few days ago, they got into some useless fight with our men, and that caused some conflict on our part."

"The thing is," Izaya said with perfect calm, "I don't think I can accept the job this time."

At this, the executive blinked, clueless. He slowly processed what Izaya had just told him, and then analyzed the possible reasons behind his refusal. "And is that related to why you are so well-informed with this organization?"

"Quite." Dusting off his legs, the male twirled around the middle of the office. "I prefer avoiding the Uesugi-kai."

"Well, that's a considerable shame. I suppose we'll manage on our own, then. But please do know, that the offer will be up still for quite a while, just in case you change your mind." Shiki stood up as well, following Izaya as he exited the building.

"I'll remember that." And with that, Izaya departed, said organization looming around the corner of his head.

 _Forget it._

* * *

He ate something sweet for breakfast?

Check.

He got his job for today done?

Check.

He mentioned the people who wouldn't pay their fucking taxes for months to Tom?

Check.

He made sure Kasuka was doing fine?

Check.

So why was he so fucking vexed?

Gee, he had no idea.

Maybe because he wasn't able to kill a motherfucking flea _again_?

God, that had to be the answer.

 _I'll die of Orihara-shitty-Izaya stress disorder before I get to squash him into pieces._ Shizuo grumbled; his back slightly hunched as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Shizu-oh!" A jumpy Russian accent was to be heard from his left. The grouchy blonde undid his petulant expression. "Would you like to try some sushi? Sushi is good, Shizu-oh!" The dark-skinned foreigner grinned with pride; the traditional Japanese uniform somewhat suiting him to a certain extent.

"Hey, Simon." Shizuo gave a small nod towards the taller man. "I'm not really up for sushi today, unfortunately. On a _significantly_ brighter note, have you seen the flea- I mean, Izaya?" He managed to smile, his muscles tugging downward instinctively, as if to scream 'YOU DO NOT SMILE WHEN YOU MENTION THAT FUCKING NAME'.

"Iza-ya, huh?" Rubbing his chin, Simon closed his eyes in remembrance. "The last time I saw him was yesterday, near Ikebukuro Park."

Not able to hide his disappoint, Shizuo grunted. "Alright, thanks. Have a nice day."

When Shizuo was just out of earshot, Yumasaki popped through the short curtains, and asked – "Why didn't you say that he just walked past this area like five minutes ago?"

"Well," Simon lowered his head so that he wouldn't crash into the doorframe, "we don't need another dead body near our shop. It'd lower the attraction for the customers." And with that, he proceeded to passing out new flyers.

* * *

"Well, that was fast."

"Aw, missed me?"

"Get the hell out of my fucking face."

"Cruel."

Izaya was still feeling slightly queasy after the meeting with Shiki. The Uesugi-kai… the name dug up many long-buried memories, and they weren't necessarily pleasant ones. Namie was packing up her belongings, getting ready to return home and away from what she called a 'stinking prison cell'.

The sounds of her footsteps felt oddly distant – more so than usual – as she approached the doorway. "Oh, by the way," she jutted her head at the long, rectangular table, capturing Izaya's scattered attention. "There was a delivery made from an unknown sender. I didn't open it, because obviously I'm not interested with your shitty personal privacy and whatnot." His gaze journeyed towards the said table, and Namie was right – the package was clean and prim, untouched as it sat on the glass surface. The door closed with a definitive click, and the female was out.

Hesitantly reaching for the package, he ripped it with his blade.

"A… CD." He picked it up with circumspect mannerisms, and inserted it into his CD rom drive. A video popped up, loading. The wheel turned, as a pitch-black screen showed up on his desktop.

 _I don't hear anything…_ Izaya sighed heavily. His day could've been going better – but here he was. He pulled up the volume.

Through the speakers, there was a disturbing sound echoing in the background. _Panting? No, this is…_

" _ **Have you learned your lesson?"**_

A loud thud resonated, and a piercing scream sprang from the darkness.

He felt like he was just electrocuted – after all – that voice – that scream – that was –

" _ **It's pitiful… Being a good boy would make everything so easier."**_

"You're lying…" Izaya whispered, cold sweat beading his forehead, as his breathing gradually grew uneven.

" _ **Don't you think so, Izaya?"**_

* * *

 **A/N: Um… what do you think?**

 **My updates wouldn't be too often, but I'll try – it's midterms soon, you see…**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading!**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	2. Until the Heavens Fell, Crashed, on Me

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your support, guys! To have 30+ followers just on the first chapter is an extreme honor on my part.**

 **Currently, I am halfway through my midterms, and everything is going well. I'll update as soon as possible, whenever I'm free!**

* * *

 **The Second File:**

" **Until the Heavens Fell, Crashed, on Me"**

" _Shizuo?"_

"Shinra." Grunt. "What is it?"

" _Have you seen Izaya, these past few days?"_

Shizuo wasn't sure if he heard that right. Kishitani Shinra, a man that practically knew well enough to publish a whole scientific document on 101 reasons why Shizuo _abhorred_ Izaya, was questioning about the man's whereabouts? Out of all people, _him_?

Before the said bodyguard could provide the underground doctor with a reviling growl, Shinra spoke up once more.

" _Of course, I am aware of the fact that you are definitely not on the Top 20 list of 'Civilians that will know Orihara Izaya's whereabouts' –"_

"IF YOU ARE FUCKING AWARE OF THAT –"

" _But that doesn't mean I can't ask you about the topic. In fact, I have already inquired many others before reaching out to you, and I am dead serious. I value my new wed life, Shizuo, trust me."_

Shizuo pinched the bridge of his nose and took off his sunglasses, before he recomposed his flaring mind. "Alright." He exhaled a forced breath. "I don't know where that fucking flea is." He said matter-of-factly, mentally coaxing his inner infuriation.

" _I see."_ The Kishitani answered thankfully on the other line. _"I was just wondering, since Izaya hasn't been heard or seen around Ikebukuro for the past 4 days or so. The last time I met him, he was a little shaky – so I was deducing that he could be ill. If you do not know, however, I suppose I'll stop asking around as well."_

"Ill?" Shizuo snorted, shoving his free hand in his pocket. "Right, ill. I hope he fucking dies or something." Pulling out a damp cigarette, he shifted the position of his phone and placed it between his shoulder and neck, yanking his lighter out and moved it so that the flickering flame burned on the gray tobacco.

Shinra laughed a little on the other end, and hung up. The beast crinkled his nose and released a puff of smoke through the thin gap between his lips. "Bleh." The taste of charbroiled paper engulfed the surface of his tongue. In truth, Heiwajima Shizuo was not a smoker. No, he was – he just didn't enjoy it. Smoking was for the sake of replacing a bitter taste with another bitter taste. Kind of like how depressed people say they cut to replace their emotional pain with another type of pain.

Said bitter taste was Orihara Izaya.

 _Shitty louse._ He grumbled in his thoughts, as he roamed through the vacant alleys of Ikebukuro. It was true that Izaya hadn't been in the city nowadays. He used to come between every three days or so, for various reasons. Not like any of them was Shizuo's business.

A sound that resembled one of a horse echoed throughout the alleyway, and the blonde turned around to see his friend, Celty Sturluson – also known as the underground doctor's wife.

"Oh, Celty." He greeted, this time with much more amiable mannerisms than how he treated his colleague from high school. "How's it going?"

 _ **[Good. You? You seem pretty annoyed, is something wrong?]**_

"Nah, just… yeah, nothing." He shrugged, and the cat-shaped helmet tilted to the side.

 _ **[Well, okay. And by the way, have you seen the groups of black that have been dotting the streets nowadays?]**_

Shizuo frowned in confusion. "Black? Is it a new color gang? As if we don't have enough of those."

Celty, on the other hand, had smoke floating out of the slim spaces of her helmet. _**[I don't know. But no, I don't think they are a color gang. They looked more… that's right, yakuza-like. Like the Awakusu-kai we have here.]**_

"Yakuza… huh. Well, I don't care as long as they don't interfere with my work life." He scanned the dullahan for a while, and then spoke up once more. "Are you on another courier job or something?"

She typed away at her answer. _**[Yeah. It's an easy job, though. Shouldn't take very long, if the traffic police doesn't chase me again.]**_

With that, she gave him a curt nod and drove off silently. _A group of black…_ He rolled his eyes. Blue, yellow, colorless, and now black? What was next? The fucking rainbow? He stepped out towards the wider streets, and looked up. Very well, there were a few men in black suits every other corner, with an omniscient vibe that reminded him of… Shiki Haruya? Was that the executive's name? He couldn't remember.

"Hey." He felt a light tap on his shoulder. When Shizuo turned around, he saw a man with a cut sliding down his left eye, as an old, vertical scar. His hair was a shade of dirty brown, and his dark orbs held malice – and a somewhat sinful background.

The fortissimo of Ikebukuro raised a brow. "Huh?"

His smile curling up in a thin line, the man put both hands in his pocket. "I was wondering if you could deliver a package for me."

"You can go to the crappy post office for that." Growling, the blonde spat his cigarette on the pile of sand that was placed on top of the rubbish bin.

"That was my initial plan, but unfortunately I don't know the address of my... fellow friend." It seemed quite obvious that this addressed person was not a fellow friend. "I asked people around, but they all either: avoided me, or claimed that they did not know as well. I thought I could test my luck by asking you." He now had a small, square cardboard box in his hand.

Heiwajima Shizuo considered this. He had nothing to do. He was free. Therefore, it wasn't like he had any particular reason of why to refuse this offer only if knew where the person's house was. It was just that he didn't like the overall appearance of this man in general. "… What's their name?"

The latter's mouth moved to form the first syllable. "Orihara Izaya."

Fuck no.

"No thanks." Shizuo grunted, taking a sharp turn to his right, trying to cross the road.

"Wait, wait." The man grabbed his arm, and something about his snaky grasp crept Shizuo out. It was rather comical, because strength-wise, the blonde had to be stronger. "Of course, I wouldn't ask you to do this without an adequate payment. I'll give you ten thousand. How does that sound?"

 _Ten thousand yen for a shitty package?_ The blonde stood there, in a heated debate within himself. _Fuck, that's a pretty good deal._ He would've gone there 100 times if only it weren't Orihara Izaya.

 _But then again,_ he thought to himself, _there isn't much to lose. I can just drop it off in the mailbox, or place it in front of his door. Yes, Heiwajima Shizuo, prove that there are many other ways to deliver something rather than killing that person. Get the money, do your job._ "Fine." He made up his mind, and outstretched his hand for the cash that was soon placed finely into his palm.

"Oh, by the way," The man called out before Shizuo departed with the package, "tell Orihara my name. It's Goshiki. Goshiki Masamune."

"I'm not good with names, so I can't guarantee that." Answered the blonde, as he casually walked off with the box in his hand.

If only, he knew then.

* * *

Orihara Izaya had locked away the whole world from his lone apartment for approximately four days.

Maybe five.

Nah, three?

Bleh, who cares.

He got a new mail every single day, from the exact same person that he couldn't track down. It was funny, because he knew who the sender was. He knew all too well.

 _I thought I finally escaped their radar…_ Clutching his soft futon, Izaya curled into the bed. _I guess nine years was the limit._ Then he buried his head in his pillow. He didn't remember the last time he drank, or ate. His lips felt dry and sore but he wasn't thirsty. His whole body felt weak and sick but he wasn't hungry. In fact, he wanted to do anything but eating and drinking.

He told Namie to take a break from her secretary work. She had been dubious about his intentions, but he couldn't give any more shits. He needed to be alone – that was the only way he would ever feel secure.

 _Cold…_ his teeth clattered dangerously together, begging for warmth. Pulling his blankets closer to him, Izaya checked if the air conditioner was on. It wasn't. _Damn it…_ Dragging his heavy body across the room, the pale man wrapped at least two blankets around his shivering figure and tiptoed down his staircase. Every step pained him. Every living second agonized him. He hated it.

The kitchen felt dusty. Probably because he hadn't used it for the past week, ever since Namie was dismissed. Grabbing a mug from the top left cupboard, Izaya brewed a hot cup of bitter coffee, and waited as he sat on the couch with his legs folded up towards his chest.

 _Ping!_

The screen of his phone blinked, and Izaya stared at it, while not picking it up.

 _ **[You have 1 new mail.]**_

His fingers instinctively coiled, and his legs involuntarily flinched. His skin felt prickly, as cold sweat started to form on his forehead. He didn't want to check the new mail. He really didn't.

But he did anyway.

 _ **[We sent someone after you.]**_

Gritting his teeth, Izaya hurled his phone across the room as it hit the chandelier on the ceiling. Fake diamonds clanked on the floor, as the device dropped with a light _thunk_ , the screen evidently shattered as a few glass shards scattered over the expensive marble.

 _Why am I cowering over something so trivial like this?_ Izaya muttered under his breath, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. He loathed this situation. The fact that he was bending over in fear, over something that should've already been over with, done with, eternally terminated for, and just… gone.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Faintly, he could hear footsteps.

 _Tap…_

 _Tap…_

 _Tap…_

The closer it got, the more his back arched. His breathing hitched a little, as Izaya tried to console himself, mumbling that this was just a fucking dream, it was a shitty postman that came to deliver something, or maybe a newspaper boy? Seriously, he didn't care. Only if… only if it wasn't-

"Whatever." Izaya tossed his layers of blankets to the side, and trudged towards his doorway. He could care less. He wasn't going to behave like a fucking wench and hide away when he was going to be discovered sooner or later anyway.

He was going to get this over with.

Placing his right hand on the brazen doorknob, the sound of liquid against his kettle was heard from the kitchen. Twisting his lips to the corner, he rotated the knob and inhaled a deep breath and sunlight entered the secluded flat.

The person he saw there was someone he wasn't expecting at all.

"Shizu…chan?" He mumbled in disbelief – although Shizuo looked miserable. "What is a protozoan like you doing here? All the way in Shinjuku, too…" Orihara Izaya was not in the mood to play around or jeer at this former bartender guy. In fact, he wasn't in the mood to do anything.

Wordlessly (although his expression said much more than a thousand cusses), the bespectacled male handed him a box. It was small, and square. Izaya just stared at it, and then formed a puzzled look. "Isn't it too early for Christmas?"

"Oh my god, fuck you." Shizuo exclaimed, throwing his arms up exasperatedly into the air. "I was asked to deliver this to you." Izaya, at first, stole a terse glimpse at the blonde, and then gradually reached out for the cardboard box outstretched in front of him. He wrapped his fingers around the corners, as Shizuo continued. "It was from a guy named… Ugh, this is why I told him that I was terrible with names. Gozamune Shikimasa. Gomasa Shikimune." A threatening chill rushed down Izaya's spine. "Right, Goshiki Masamune."

He could feel blood wiped out from his face. He felt cold. Colder than ever. In fact, he believed that it couldn't get any colder than this. It was so cold that he felt numb. Everything felt numb. Gazing down at the box in terror, Izaya bit the inside of his cheek as his nails dug into the hard paper.

"Anyway, my business is done here, so I'll –"

Izaya cut him off, "Shizu-chan, you didn't peek at the contents or anything, did you?"

"Hah?" Shizuo's volume amplified, in order to prove his point. "As _if_! The deal was just appealing, and so I took it. That guy literally just told me to deliver this and nothing else, so therefore my job is done. Good- no, _bad_ bye."

Just when he was about to step away from the door, something gurgling and hissing like a wild animal was heard from inside.

"Shit." Izaya cursed, as he trashed the package to the side and dashed to the kitchen. He had spent too much time, and completely forgot about the kettle.

Hot coffee was spilled in smoking bubbles around the counter, and the male groaned. He was in luck that he didn't have a carpet in the kitchen or something. Trying to reach for the paper towels that were on the other side, his foot came in contact with the boiling hot liquid that was sizzling quietly on the marble floor.

Hissing in pain, the male stumbled over the floor, the world spiraled as he saw his swinging chandelier, and-

"What the _fuck_ do you think you are doing, louse?"

When he cracked open his tightly shut eyelids, his view was blurred, and all he could interpret of the situation was a blotch of blonde, black, and white. But then his eyesight cleared, and he could see Heiwajima Shizuo's more than unsatisfied scowl looming over his face, as his strong, powerful arms that used to punch him and break his bones now supported Izaya's fragile frame.

The raven-haired informant almost gagged as he processed this ghastly position he had been placed in. "Just let me fall. Let me forget that I was saved bridal-style in your arms and let me hit the floor like I was supposed to."

He smirked deviously – god, damn it he was enjoying this. "No."

"Fuck you."

Staggering up to stand properly again, Izaya grabbed the handle of his drawers, and examined the complete mess that had been made around the vicinity. Maybe he should've just asked Namie to come, starting today.

For some odd reason, Shizuo helped clean up the cooled coffee on the floor, wetting the paper towels as he wiped the marble shiny again. Maybe it was just out of some sense of OCD, or as basic hospitality of a normal human being. But the second point couldn't be true, as Shizuo was not a normal human being in Izaya's personal encyclopedia.

In silence, the blonde remained still on the table after they were done. Izaya didn't complain or made any lunatic comment on his idiocy, either. An unknown element was keeping both of them inclined neither to speak, nor move.

Izaya then caught sight of the package that was lying near the doorway, when he last trashed it while running to the kitchen. He stood and picked it up, facing his back towards Shizuo, not wanting the blonde to see it. No, he couldn't afford to have the blonde see it, out of people.

Inside, there was a note.

There was also a photo.

 _ **[Save me]**_

The letters were written in blood – the originally crimson substance was now a maroon-brown, dried up and crisp on the paper. Izaya seethed, overwhelmed with sensation of resentment.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

He didn't even look at the photo – for he already knew what it was. Instead, he tore it up, and threw the whole thing into the rubbish bin without a nanosecond of hesitation. Shizuo just stared at this raging feat, not saying anything.

"… Just leave already, Shizu-chan."

He didn't. _Fuck_.

"You're not yourself today."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." _God, that was a cliché line_ , he thought. "I'm just taking a short break from work, Shizu-chan. Stress has been getting to my body nowadays."

Witnessing his unconvinced face didn't boost my self-confidence. He was so much better at lying – so why was he falling apart with his act, right now, out of all times? It was annoying. It was so, fucking, annoying.

But then again, he contemplated about this matter in a very circumspect manner. Putting all personal emotions aside, Heiwajima Shizuo was a strong man. It wasn't that Izaya was weak – Izaya was also strong. He didn't get the honorable mention as Heiwajima Shizuo's rival for nothing. But their strengths were different, and unfortunately for Izaya, his strength did not lie in the physical category too much.

He needed Shizuo.

There was nobody else.

Only…

"Shizu-chan." He began, his breath shallow and his tone deep. "I need your help."

The blonde looked back at him in utter skepticism. "You need my _what_?"

 _I am not saying this._

 _I am definitely not going to say this._

 _I shouldn't be saying this in the first place._

 _I shouldn't…_

 _I wouldn't…_

 _Fuck you, pride._

"Protect me. Please."


	3. I Broke Myself, Asked Him for Help

**A/N: Whoa, 19 reviews in 2 chapters! That is truly impressive guys, thanks a lot! Please enjoy this chapter as well!**

* * *

 **The Third File:**

" **I Broke Myself, Asked Him for Help"**

Utter silence seemed to jitter through the living room as Orihara Izaya broke his gaze towards Heiwajima Shizuo. He had a good reason for that. He just _couldn't_ bear to look at the blonde protozoan in the eye, after blatantly requesting for his protection. This was beyond embarrassing. This was… this was…

Pure disgrace.

"Did you just –"

" _Yes_ , I did." Izaya was not going to permit the 'p' word dance out Shizuo's mouth again. Not 'p' for 'protozoan', but 'p' for 'protect'.

How could just two syllables be so humiliating to the bare ear?

Shizuo just sat there, very still. For a moment Izaya was convinced that he was going to turn into stone, like Greek mythology. Unfortunately, that did not happen.

"Obviously no." Izaya was expecting that answer. "Why in the world would I, out of all people, pro –"

"Shut up."

"-tect you? Like, think about that. It's not _right_. Our relationship was programmed with malice and hatred, not amicable friendliness. You know that." And yes, Orihara Izaya did know that. He still persisted to ask, whilst knowing that. This damn protozoan just didn't seem to get it.

Wrapping the futon on the couch around his shoulders, Izaya sighed lightly. "I didn't suggest that with expecting you to do it for free, and I hope you are aware of that. I'll pay you. I have the money. You just need to…" His teeth gritted. He couldn't say it again. "… _Guard_ me." God, that sounded so much better. The 'p' word was just too fucking feminine.

"Firstly," Shizuo shot his index finger up into the air, "what for?" Another finger went up. "Secondly, what's your payment?" And the last one rose. "Finally, until when?"

Those were good, reasonable questions. Izaya hated it when Shizuo was asking good, reasonable questions.

"You don't need to know what it is _for_." The informant massaged his temples. "Just do as I say. For the time being, I'll tell you that anyone from the Uesugi-kai is to be put away at least a mile from wherever I am standing. If you accept the job, that is." Shizuo didn't really seem satisfied. Izaya did not care. "I can pay you… I don't know, how about hundred thousand per month? Whatever sails your boat."

 _God,_ Shizuo mentally deadpanned. _That's at least twice my salary right now._

"Lastly, I don't know until when. There is a high possibility that because of your journey here," Izaya shot him a glare, "that my flat is already discovered. Therefore if you accept the job, I won't stay here. But your job will be over once I am absolutely, two hundred percent certain that they won't be here again. That's all there is to it."

To be honest, this was an appealing bargain for both parties. Izaya needed a powerful bodyguard like no other. Shizuo… well, money was a pretty important element in life.

"Let's say I do accept the job," The blonde began, his voice gruff. "Where are you going to stay, if not here?"

Izaya twitched at that. God, only if the protozoan was a teensy bit smarter, he would have it figured out. But nope, the raven just had to explain the whole fucking thing to him so that it would be engraved in his mind.

"I can't stay at a hotel or a motel. I wish, of course, but there are too many ways of how information may leak, transportation records, and especially when you're moving around locations that are densely populated, it is easy to be spotted. And please don't forget the fact that you," He pointed remarkably at Shizuo, who raised an eyebrow, "Are the fortissimo of Ikebukuro, a.k.a. the strongest man in Ikebukuro, and I," He pointed at himself this time, "Am practically the most famous information broker in Japan. The two of us together? Wow, we look so damn _average_ , Shizu-chan."

Shizuo folded his arms across his chest. "I get your point, flea. How about Shinra's?"

"I considered that, of course. But then that would involve providing a thorough explanation of why I am there, and then matters would get complicated. And besides, he got married merely a month ago. I'd feel quite guilty to disturb his freedom of a romantic life right now."

"I didn't know you were capable of feeling guilt."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am biologically certified as a human being." Izaya smirked, slowly reconstructing his façade. _Of course_. Just now, he was just a little shaken up, that's all. There was no reason at all for _the_ Orihara Izaya to fall so easily.

Shizuo rolled his eyes. "So? Where are you gonna stay?"

God, when was this protozoan going to catch up?

"Well," _OHMYFUCKINGLORDAMIACTUALLYSAYINGTHIS-_ "I was thinking it'd be a magnificent," _NOTMAGNIFICENT-_ "idea to stay at your house." He could feel inner Orihara Izaya version 2.0 screaming his ass off inside.

The room was so quiet that Izaya was certain he could hear the sound of dust coming in contact with his marble floor. Man, it would be really nice to hear something around the range of 'What the-

"What the fuck?"

Touché.

Izaya leaned back with a swift, relaxed motion with his legs crossed over the other. "It's not I'd have another option – and it'd be the safest place, anyway. If not, I'd have to make arrangements elsewhere. Like I said, this will be a temporary deal – it's not we're suddenly going to be married and living under same roof. I'll pay you for all the fees, hell, I'll even pay one hundred percent of your rent." Although he hated to admit it, Izaya was desperate. He needed a first and final line of defense, and for that, Shizuo was the perfect one.

"Shut you know-it-all, thrasonical shit flea." The blonde grunted, while considering his options.

" _Thrasonical_? Now that's a difficult word to be contained in your pint-sized brain."

"A diffuse word for a diffuse devil." Izaya twitched at that. He'd been called 'louse', 'flea', 'idiot', and many other accurate-enough titles, but this was fresh.

"Do you know what I find annoying in this world?" The informant began, tilting his head to the side. Shizuo did the same, just in the opposite direction.

"I don't know, yourself?"

"Good guess." Empty praise, of course. "But no. It's when toddlers, knowing nothing, containing nothing, showing nothing, doing nothing…" He stood up, and lowered his eyes to stare at the blonde in front of him. A blonde he hated. "Learn how to talk."

Shizuo gradually arose from the chair – and mounted over Izaya's eye level a little. "That's unfortunate." The wooden leg of the chair drew backwards, making an unpleasant noise as it scratched the marble. He pointed his foot towards the door, and returned the look Izaya was giving him. "Deal's off. Have fun getting yourself killed."

Orihara Izaya bit into his lips. He was not panicking. He was not raging, either. This was acceptance, and the result of that acceptance was irresistible distress. He just remained frozen, as he tried to ignore the definitive 'click' he heard from the door. His thin, bony fingers curled and uncurled from the hem of his shirt, and his bare toes were being lifted and shifted in several directions, seeking comfort. He couldn't find any.

 _Just kill yourself._ The inner him whispered.

 _I refuse to die._

In attempt to calm himself, he took some breaths of varying deepness. Short breaths, longer breaths. But his heartbeat just increased, and he could feel it. This was probably unhealthy – nobody needed to be a renowned doctor to figure that out.

A plan. He needed a plan. He never had a back up plan, so he had to make a new one. An efficient one. One where it guaranteed him to be safe, alive, no matter what the cost was.

Shakily, he reached for his phone that was nearly dead on the floor. Dialing a familiar number, he waited. Waited for the other person to pick up.

" _Hello –"_

"Shiki-san."

He was panting, as he gripped and tugged at his shirt collar. This whole situation was suffocating him, restraining him. It was choking him and killing him.

"… _Izaya-san."_

"I'll accept your job." He was probably hazy. No, he was hazy. Or else, there was no other reason why Izaya would've accepted the job. "But under one condition."

" _Conditions, eh? That's ironic, since we are the one paying you."_

"I hope you're just about desperate as I am."

" _Well, if it is just one, then it is not a major issue."_

"I need the Awakusu-kai to protect me from the Uesugi-kai." Izaya's tone was near imploring. He needed some kind of guarantee of his safety and wellbeing. And if Shizuo, his first best yet riskiest option was pulled out of the way, then he had no choice but to rely on the yakuza organization.

" _This has to do with you refusing the offer the first time, am I right?"_

"Accurate."

" _As we have our other businesses to take care of, we cannot deploy too many of our men near Shinjuku. I will, however, send about five of my men to your city and have them patrol around. We are currently short on members, as most of them traveled to Waseda."_

"Understood. I'll visit you this weekend with the information necessary."

Putting his phone down on the floor, Izaya released a long sigh. _I should get a new phone…_ There was only so much a shattered screen could make him feel.

"Curse you, Shizu-chan."

* * *

"Shizuo, where were you?"

"Shinjuku."

Silence spread over the office, as Tanaka Tom, Shizuo's boss, looked up from a light novel he was reading with divided attention. "… Shinjuku? Isn't that where –"

"Yeah." Shizuo grunted, reaching for another cigarette, lately realizing that he had run out. Spitting on the floor, irritated, he crashed down on the chair. The debt collector frowned at him, wanting to question the reason why his bodyguard had neglected his work for an hour (technically it was a work day, but there was no work, so he did set him free, but still), but held his tongue. He didn't want to repair the window glass again just because of mentioning one stupid name.

But then again, curiosity killed the cat.

He might as well be a dead cat.

"Hey, Shizuo…"

"Yes?"

"If this doesn't annoy you- well, never mind. I hope I don't get slaughtered for asking you this, but why'd you go there?" Tom literally heard the arm of the chair snapping, before the blonde gathered his breath.

Through gritted teeth, his words came out as a low growl. "He offered a bodyguard job of sorts."

"Whoa. For what?"

"I don't know. But it was for about hundred thousand per month or whatever."

Tom almost dropped his light novel on the wooden floor. "… Wow. Are you sure it was a good choice to let that chance drop?"

"It was _Izaya_ , Tom-san. And I'm better off being your bodyguard, not his, regardless of the pay. He sickens me." In an attempt to appease his rising displeasure, Shizuo stood up and headed towards the fridge, where he put his chocolate pudding. Chocolate, or anything sweet, really, was great for soothing his nerves.

Tom wiped his glasses a little, sinking into his own train of thoughts. "But he must've been in a pretty tight spot, to go as far as to lower himself to ask _you_ for assistance."

"What do you mean?" Exhaling a relieved sigh, the stronger man savored the bittersweet taste of the pudding as it rolled over his tongue. He practically felt heavenly – sweets always did the trick. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to continue listening to Tom about Izaya when he felt so utterly _good_.

"I mean," Tom began, as he leaned back on his chair, "you two are pretty well-known here for being legendary rivals – to the point where there are rumors that claim that the only one that might be capable of defeating you is Orihara Izaya in Ikebukuro, or Japan as whole. And for _that_ Izaya to bend down on his knees, crumple his pride, and beg you for help…" He chewed on his pencil. "He must've been really desperate. I never liked that guy, but it kind of bothers me."

 _Desperate? Him?_ Shizuo crushed the soft edges of his dessert.

" _ **Protect me. Please."**_

The three words rang in his head, like a distant echo. That despicable voice, those bloody red orbs, his stinking breath, his insect-resembling odor, and that thin, lanky figure… muttering _those_ three words? It didn't match up. At all.

But then again, Izaya was somewhat… foreign, today. His voice was lower, and had a concerning vibration to it. His crimson eyes were wavering, and avoiding his gaze. His body was pale and shivering, although the room seemed to be hotter than outside. He was even thinner than usual, as if he had been starving for ages. This Orihara Izaya was like an undiscovered, unrecognizable creature to Heiwajima Shizuo.

The Orihara Izaya he knew spoke with unmatchable sass and confidence. This one spoke words of insecurity, and sentences of fake assurance. The Orihara Izaya he knew was frustratingly flawless, in his works, his wealth, his looks (Shizuo was being surprisingly honest here, as much as he hated it), and everything except for his fucked up personality. This one had a visible façade, traveled with superfluous movements, like an overly cautious animal, and was… afraid? Conscious? Daunted?

It shocked even Shizuo, on how much he noticed about Izaya in such little time. He had passed such minor details over at that time, but now that he thought about it, his eyes had subconsciously picked up all the changes. He didn't know what to think of it.

 _Nothing should be wrong with him._ Shizuo told himself, although he could feel an odd sensation of wariness tugging at his chains. _Besides, you hate him._

"His opponents must be pretty strong, though." Tom chuckled, as he resumed to filling out some papers. "For Izaya to be requesting your support. Being that rich, he could probably hire _anyone_."

Tom's commentary was not helping him pacify his alarmed state of mind. In fact, he felt like going through a tornado of emotions.

"I guess." Were the only words that he managed to say. Izaya was his enemy. A deadly enemy. But as much as he infuriated him, witnessing the latter in such a poor physical state slapped at his morals. He desired for the death of Izaya, but that was through his _own_ hands, not an unrelated murder. But then again, his life would be at peace if that flea disappeared for the better.

 _It's not your business, Shizuo. You turned down the bargain._ He wouldn't be at fault if the said informant would be found dead, covered in his own blood on his own living room floor. Of course it wouldn't be.

Of course it wouldn't…

Be…

Of course…

"Shizuo."

"Yeah?" He jumped, as Tanaka Tom shook his head.

"You're free for the day. Just go and do whatever you want."

"But I –"

"Seriously. Nothing's in slot for us today."

Hesitantly, he stepped up and placed his hand on the doorknob. "Thanks, Tom-san."

"No problem."

With that, he ran out.

 _It's just to make sure…_

 _Yeah, just to make sure._

* * *

It was about two hours after he had contacted Shiki. Orihara Izaya was now sprawled on his own couch, his arms hiding his thinned face and his legs entangled in his pile of black, square pillows. Being a naturally organized man, Izaya greatly disliked a behavior that displayed utter disarray of materials.

Which meant, that if him from a week ago saw the current Orihara Izaya, he would probably flip out and yank his broom and mop out, first thing. But this Orihara Izaya could care less. A lot less. There was no update from Shiki about his men, and in all given honesty, Izaya didn't trust Shiki's men to protect him. It was a barrier that could be easily penetrated anytime.

 _I knew I should've forced Shizu-chan to stay somehow._ Biting his nails, Izaya glowered at his own ceiling. _Maybe he would've listened to me if I doubled the price._

His "ferocious" glower felt so fragile under the invisible pressure of trepidation – he felt like a defiant puppy that still trembled on its paws while facing a beast ten times its size. The former Izaya would've laughed with dark humor upon witnessing such a sight, forgetting that he too, was once in that exact same position.

"Hnnghh…" He groaned, as his head ached with a sharp pain passing through his skull. _Shit…_ his eyes blurred, his vision whitening as he frantically grasped for anything within reach. The swirling silhouette of the arrangement of his furniture seemed familiar, all yet foreign at the very same time. His breath hitched dangerously, as his right hand clawed at his chest in panic. Sensing his legs giving out on the rigid surface, Izaya crumbled downward, sliding down the slim edge of what felt like a table leg.

 _Effects of days of starvation and dehydration… I suppose. Out of all times…_ Wheezing in discomfort, the raven pressed his heavy body upward, although he could still see nothing. Or rather, he could see white, along with the undistinguishable outlines of materials. _Just… water…_

 _Ping!_

He froze as his head screeched in dread. Twisting his sweaty face to the left, he warily stretched his shaking fingers out on the table's surface, until they touched something – in which the informant instinctively withdrew from. Wrapping his damp hand around the rectangular device, Izaya held the screen up to his eyes and struggled to read the newly sent message.

 _We…_

 _Are…_

 _Here._

A powerful attack knocked the air out of his stomach, as he gasped for oxygen and caved in as he fell right on the marble. Warm liquid oozed out of his head as it smashed to the ground, as his ears rang.

"Hey, it's this dude, right?" Izaya coughed out some blood as the unknown guy stepped on his ribcage, digging his foot deeper into his already bruised torso. Grunting a little, the raven scratched against the smooth surface, attempting to latch on something else to ignore the pain.

A short pause was present until another voice spoke. "It matches the photo Goshiki-san sent us."

"Heh." The other lifted his foot up in the air, as Izaya subconsciously released a sigh of relief – until the guy unexpectedly crushed one of his ribs. An excruciating scream tore from his lips, as Izaya clutched his stomach, gritting his teeth again as agonizing heat traveled over his whole body.

"Hey, that was cute. Do it again, man. He seems like a slut anyway."

"Thought so too. Wonder why Goshiki-san was so desperate to find him." The man was digging into his ribs again.

"Nngh…" He hated this. Dying on a sizzling saucer would be his preference of death one million times over being humiliated by two men while being named a slut when he was still a virgin. This utterly sucked. And besides, his vision was till fucking blurry, and his throat was burning due to the obvious lack of necessary nutrients and water.

"Well, let's just take him and see how it goes."

"Need some somnifacient or no?"

"He'd be fine this way. He looks weak as shit."

"Yeah –"

The sound of metal crashing across the apartment resounded with a loud, familiar growl – but with more menace and venom than Izaya recognized.

"Hands off."

 _What the fuck is he doing here?_

"Shizu… chan?"


	4. Called Him a Monster, I Don't Know Why

**A/N: When I saw the review count a few days ago, it said 30. So I was like, whoa, I should update! But then after a day I saw it go to 33, and I was like, WHOA, I SHOULD UPDATE! So here it is.**

 **Special credits to Google, that has taught me the symptoms of a broken rib and the aftereffects and caring methods.**

 **Also, I wanted to mention, that despite my Shizaya tag in the summary, the build-up towards the pairing would be extremely slow. I personally find it very disturbing (not very, but you get my point) when in the anime (I don't read the light novel, my apologies) it was pretty much obvious on how much the two abhor one another, although the pairing of Shizaya soars because of that love-hate relationship. But I thought it'd be impossible for the two to suddenly feel a mutual attraction, especially when this story isn't an AU. So there you go, if you are dissatisfied with a slowly developed pairing, then I don't think this story is for you. But the good and fluffy scenes will come someday, I promise!**

 **But anyway,**

 **Merry Christmas!**

 **This is my Christmas present to all of you! Hope you like it!**

 **Anyway, thanks for the support!**

* * *

 **The Fourth File:**

" **Called Him a Monster, I Don't Know Why"**

If Izaya didn't know how a heroine in a shoujo manga felt when the male protagonist saved her from a bunch of molesters before, he sure did now.

Just that there was a few _minor_ differences: he was not a fucking damsel in distress (distress, accurate. Damsel? Fuck you.), and that Shizuo was not to be his Prince Charming in a millennia. Very minor differences, of course.

"Hei-Heiwajima Shizuo?!"

"Didn't we confirm his dismissal in Shinjuku –?"

Albeit the fact that Izaya couldn't see, he relied on his remaining senses to make out Shizuo's reaction. A foot was harshly stomped to the floor, which meant Shizuo probably dropped his cigarette on the marble and was flattening it out to kill the flame. The scent of nicotine filled Izaya's nostrils, as he lied there, motionless.

"Well," Growling, the blonde pushed the raven to the side, using his right heel. The nearly weightless body of Izaya slid across the smooth floor, as the informant clutched his broken ribs in pain, holding back a whimper as he resisted the urge to vomit all over his nice, bloodied living room. "Your confirmation was precise. Just that you couldn't catch me coming back." The man cracked his knuckles, as the other two men hurriedly unleashed their guns.

"D-don't move!"

The Heiwajima paused, as if analyzing what those weird looking weapons were for. "Hah?" Tilting his head to the side, Izaya could hear the loud gulps of the enemies. "Do you actually think- fuck everything. I don't give a shit."

With that, he charged forward with uncontained rage, as Izaya made out the sound of gunshots resounding through the apartment. Shizuo's bellows were audible and echoed across the whole district, and so were the screams of the other men. Soon, the glasses of his windows were all shattered, lying on the floor, and he couldn't hear the men anymore.

 _So…_ His vision still freakishly white, Izaya tried moving his fingers. _I was… saved. By Shizu-chan._ He closed his eyelids, exhausted. _I would've preferred dying._

"Oi, flea." The bodyguard shook his limp waist. "Flea, wake up. Don't say you're dead from a few measly punches and kicks."

At that, Izaya snapped his eyes open, although not being able to tell where the latter was. "Well," it was a bad idea to talk, because his breathing was getting worse. "Not everyone is a fucking beast like you are." Silence passed through the room, with a reason that Izaya couldn't comprehend. He didn't care anymore. Shizuo could just do fucking anything as he pleased, and Izaya wouldn't bother to give a shit.

Suddenly, a familiar sensation overwhelmed him as he felt two strong arms, one supporting his weak neck as it winded around his shoulders, and the other under the joint of his legs.

Okay, maybe he should give some shits.

"Shizu-chan put me _down_." He didn't have the energy or charisma to struggle or disengage himself from this dire circumstance he was placed into, but he at least possessed the right to do as he desired with his words.

Just that this was Heiwajima Shizuo he was facing, and words didn't exactly do the trick.

"No."

Izaya opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it. He could tell that this 'no' was unlike the previous one. The previous 'no' had contained mockery, revilement, and a sense of vengeful hatred. This 'no'… he wouldn't go as far to label it concern, but just general hospitality – it possessed unnecessary sensitivity and circumspect mannerisms.

The male was thrown not so gently onto something comfy – probably the couch. Izaya rolled to his side and grunted. The blonde stuffed his hands in his pockets and scratched his legs a little, in attempt to get rid of any germs that might've been passed through Izaya.

"Don't get me wrong, louse," Jutting his chin out of habit, Shizuo folded his arms, shifting his weight to his right side. "I'm just here to accept the job. I didn't come here to just save your sorry ass like a superhero and leave with a victory dance."

A bitter taste suddenly flowed over his tongue as he processed those words. _Of course…_ he sighed. "What… happened… to them?" It took him a while to form the disconnected words, due to his 'slightly' dysfunctional lungs and injured ribs.

"What? You were the one that told me that none of the… whatever from Ue… something kai to be thrown a mile away from you. So I launched them out from your balcony." Shizuo said it so matter-of-factly, that Izaya was at loss for words. He wasn't actually expecting him to _literally_ throw them a mile away from him. "Hey."

"Hm…?" Drowsy, Izaya moved his arm to the left, trying to find a snug position. It was a rather challenging task when your whole body felt like it had been run over thirty-ton truck.

"Do you need anything?" Shizuo questioned, and the informant frowned. Didn't the other say that he wasn't worried or whatnot? Rolling his eyes, the blonde rubbed the back of his neck. "Since I'm your _bodyguard_ , I thought I might as well do my job efficiently."

 _Ah._ "Water… and Shinra."

"Got it." Then he stopped. "… How would I get Shinra?"

 _This idiot…_ "We'll figure something out."

"Alright." With that, his footsteps headed towards the kitchen.

 _Is this luck… or a curse?_ Izaya contemplated in silence, disregarding the tingling pain that persisted to linger around his lower torso. It was just a few broken ribs – not a big deal. _Shizu-chan is certainly a formidable line of defense, not to mention the best fighter you'd get here, with a few exceptions like Simon. But-_

Something cold pressed against his heated cheek. "Here you go."

The chill sensation helped him cool off, as he traced his fingers up towards the cup. Bringing the edge to his slightly swollen lips, Izaya let the water cascade down his tongue, to his throat. His vision began to regain its ordinary function, as shapes solidified into objects rather than clouds of colors.

 _Water,_ the raven smirked in absentminded humor, _God's ultimate medicine._

"Feeling better?" Shizuo grumbled, his voice ever so strained as he tried to show care.

Izaya decided to savor this comical moment. "Could've been better. Now be a nice puppy and take me to Shinra, will you?"

"A nice _pup_ –" _Right, I'm the one being fucking paid._ Sucking in a deep breath, Shizuo regained his composure, adding extra pressure on the bridge of his nose as he massaged it with his fingers. "Alright. After you get your bones fixed, we're moving straight to my house so just… to keep you updated."

"What about my belongings?" His personal belongings were a crucial part in Izaya's life, as simple devices could be a source of information towards his enemies.

And Shizuo, quite aware of this, replied, "I'll get them for you when you're at Shinra's. Oh, don't tell me now, I'm not gonna remember them anyway. Don't even ask for your clothes, because you can just wear mine. Don't add literal weight to my shoulders, flea."

"Wow, who's the employer here?" Izaya groaned, exasperated. "And I need to match _your_ fashion sense? We need to wear bartender suits _together_? No thank you."

"It's not like I only have bartender suits, louse. Just fucking wear anything as you please." The latter had a foul look on his face, as Izaya degraded his fashion sense. "Oh, and what're you going to do with that secretary woman?"

The said 'louse' blinked. "Oh, Namie." _Hm… never thought about her._ "I'll just give her a call tomorrow and tell her to return to work. She was on a temporary break, anyway."

Shizuo responded with a small, barely audible sound as he crouched down in front of the couch, his back facing Izaya. Izaya merely stared, as Shizuo sent him a glare of irritation.

"What are you doing?" The former bartender growled, as the injured informant snapped.

"What are _you_ doing?"

"Look," Shizuo stayed in the same posture (which would be pretty entertaining to just stare at, but Izaya wasn't in the mood or position to do such things) as he continued. "Would you prefer fucking bridal-style carrying, or a nice piggyback ride? If we catch a taxi, then you said transportation records would be left over, and you never know where and when cameras are. From what I heard, it's not that difficult to hack into random systems nowadays."

With sheer reluctance, Izaya winced in pain as he slid onto Shizuo's back, as the blonde secured his slim ankles on his sides. He slowly stood on two feet, and that's when the raven had to ask.

"Uh, Shizu-chan, wouldn't there be a larger possibility that people would spot us like…" _Orihara Izaya, the slyest man in Japan, and the fortissimo of Ikebukuro, Heiwajima Shizuo, doing a nice piggyback ride? Wow, that's your everyday scenery right there._ "This?"

"I know. I'm gonna do what you do all the time." He lightly tossed the other male to find a more securely fit position, and kicked the front door open. Izaya flinched at the bent metal, as he pitifully calculated the renovation fees of his house.

"What I do all the time?"

"Yeah. The jumping around the roofs thing."

Izaya wished he were deaf. " _Parkour_? With an injured person on your back?"

"Correction: with an injured _louse_ on my back."

"I'm your _employer_."

"And I'm saving your fucking _ass_."

 _I give up._ Burying his head into Shizuo's lean shoulders, the raven relaxed. If this journey was going to hurt, he might as well fucking scream his head off throughout the whole ride.

"Man, you're light. What do you eat – feathers?"

"Feathers aren't edible, just saying."

When the said bodyguard jumped up on the roof, the landing wasn't as gentle as it could've been, but it wasn't that rough either. Although Izaya didn't know what triggered the latter to suddenly change his mind, he decided to savor the moment. Shizuo being amicable was an opportunity that scarcely arrived, after all.

About two-thirds through the leaping and sprinting, the bespectacled male decided it was time to talk.

"Say, Izaya."

"Hm…?" Due to the piled exhaustion and continued stress, Izaya didn't even have the stamina to answer the latter with a witty comment.

"Are you going to explain to me more about Uesugi-kai anytime soon?"

It struck the victimized informant as heart wrenching, for some odd reason, that the blonde actually sounded concerned for him. Of course, that couldn't possibly be the case. Their so-called deal had begun about an hour ago, and the male was merely fulfilling and accomplishing his duty as a bodyguard. This was business – it was based off money, and even all trusts and bonds were stacked up with money.

" _ **Do you think this world is actually that generous enough to care for the likes of you? If you believe so, that is spurious, Izaya. That's not how relationships work. Money. Money is all you can trust."**_

 _Goshiki…san._ Izaya closed his eyes. Tell Shizuo? Would he ever? Would he ever be able to tell _anyone_?

"Explain about the Uesugi-kai," his lips finally parted to converse, "as in, a general description, or my specific relations with them?"

"Both."

 _Of course._ "General descriptions can be made whenever," _because it doesn't matter to me,_ "but specific relations can't come… anytime soon."

He was certain that since it was Heiwajima Shizuo, his destined enemy and adversary, that he would growl in dissatisfaction or throw him down the roof they were currently running on, or anything of the like. But surprisingly, the sole response was,

"Ah."

This caused Izaya's brows to furrow. "You aren't going to push for more?"

"What, you want me to?"

"Certainly not. It just makes me wonder why the sudden change of behavior, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo grunted. "Everyone has a secret or two they don't want to share. Even you, I guess. I don't want to be nosy in your personal business."

"My… oh." Repeating dubiously after his words, the raven's eyes returned to its normal size after realization. This was just standard consideration. Therefore there was absolutely no need for Izaya to thank Shizuo for being a nice person. Indeed, he didn't need to.

"We're here." Shizuo flexed his legs a little, as he stood sturdily in front of Shinra's doorstep. Knocking on the door, the two waited in that awkward position, for two silent reasons the men shared: one, Shizuo had found this posture quite comfortable to his liking, and two, Izaya was too lazy to get off and stand on his own two feet.

"Coming~!" The underground doctor's singsong voice rang happily around the heavy atmosphere of the two deadly rivals. "Who is- Oh! My, my, it's Shizu… wait what?"

"If you see what's going on, get me to a fucking bed so this guy can be treated." Shizuo glowered at Shinra, who mumbled a few incomprehensible words under his breath and dashed off to the living room, yelling his wife's dear name. Both Izaya and Shizuo, expecting this particular reaction, took no notice and entered the apartment.

The stronger man placed the wounded raven on the bed in the corner, where Shinra's emergency surgeries and treatments were performed. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets, and this time he didn't try to get rid of the essence of the flea. "I'll be going to your apartment. Now you can say what you need."

"You won't remember half of it anyway." Rolling his eyes, Izaya cringed as the blinding light came on, upon Shinra walking into the room.

"One-third of it." Shizuo corrected, and the intelligent other put on an expression that obviously could be interpreted as 'As-if-that-makes-a-difference'. "So? Unless you seriously don't need anything, I can just stay here otherwise."

Gathering more oxygen to speak, the adrenaline in Izaya's body seeped out as the pain returned. He took a shallow breath, in order to reduce to discomfort near the beneath of his chest. "… My laptop."

"Which one?"

"The small one… It has a sticker on it. It's a sticker that says 'God'. Destroy everything else – computer, television, any random USBs lying around… destroy whatever electronic device that comes into your eye. And bring my undergarments at least, would you? Are you really that eager to share an underwear with me, Shizu-chan?"

"No." The latter deadpanned at the thought, as his imagination kicked in at the wrong time.

"And just… my sneakers, I guess. I'll share your clothes with you, like you suggested. I don't need any of the rest. Also… actually, I'll just use your phone. Do you have an extra?"

"Eh…" Shizuo crooked his right brow, trying to recall if he had a phone he wasn't using. "Yeah. A one from three years ago."

"I can use that." Shinra approached the bed, catching that the conversation was near its end.

"So… small laptop with 'God' sticker on it, undergarments, and sneakers. Destroy everything else. That's your order?" Rechecking, the blonde moved one step back decisively, as he was pretty sure he got everything accurately. Izaya nodded, squinting his eyes as Shinra shifted the light above to his stomach.

"Alright. I'll be going."

With that, Shizuo departed back towards Shinjuku. The old friend of Izaya decided it was a good idea to begin a conversation after he was fairly certain that the blonde was out of earshot. When they both heard an audible 'click' from the door, Shinra opened his mouth. Celty gave them a nod, to assure them that the Heiwajima was indeed, gone.

"So…" He trailed off for a while, as he examined Izaya's bruised torso after he lifted the shirt upward. "Wait, don't talk. I'll ask you later."

Silence passed over the room, as the doctor just pressed gently now and then to see Izaya's reactions on differing locations. "Well," he began, "it's nothing too serious. You have two broken ribs, and the other parts just seem heavily bruised. It will improve within a span of three to six weeks, but that's only if you manage to remain in near immobile state throughout that time – which I find impossible, regarding your occupation. I'll give you some painkillers and aspirin to ease the pain. I bandaged it up for now – and with your knowledge, I bet you know how to do it yourself, but if it becomes too sore then just… I don't know, coming here would be the best option, but you can't do that any time."

"Maybe Shizu-chan." Izaya thoughtlessly suggested, unsure of what he said himself. He was probably delirious because of the endless aches that were killing him.

"Shizu… oh, I guess. If he doesn't murder you first, you can teach him how to do it." Shinra arrived to a conclusion that this certainly wasn't the right moment to inquire of what had happened. "If your chest hurts, or you start coughing blood, that might be a sign of chest infection or pneumothorax – which means if you fail to treat the injury correctly, a broken rib might be dislocated and affect your lungs, causing it to collapse."

The raven just gave a small nod of understanding. In all honesty, he wasn't too sure what was going on around him. It was almost like he was floating – dreaming, even. It was too surreal for him to accept that Shizuo had just treated him like that.

It wasn't… right.

There was still hatred and venom in his voice. There was still violence in his actions. But all of those elements seemed to have nullified a little… and he didn't know why. It was very disturbing, for Izaya to not be able to apprehend something that should be so easy to analyze.

"Say, Izaya," Shinra finally sat down, as the named man rotated his neck to the direction. "What happened? Did you and Shizuo finally… well, no. That was not the attitudes of people that just reconciled."

"It's fair trade, Shinra." He replied, "I give him the cash, and he provides me what I need for the time being. It's temporary, too. Worry not, nothing has changed."

"No, I kind of wish things change. But okay. Anything else?"

"No." Izaya lied smoothly, hoping Shinra wouldn't read through his mind. But even the other did, Izaya couldn't care much.

"I see." The doctor stood up, and headed towards the door. "Rest a little, until Shizuo comes by again. I'll be outside. Just press that bell if you need me."

Kishitani Shinra shut the door behind him, and tiptoed towards Kishitani Celty, his dullahan wife that was reading a novel on the couch. "Celty!"

She turned her body towards her husband, and quickly typed some words into her PDA.

 _ **[What did Izaya say? Why was Shizuo carrying him, for god's sake?]**_

"It doesn't seem like it's going to be permanent." Shinra answered with slight bitterness. "But hey, it's a good sign."

 _ **[… I wish.]**_

Yes, they really did.

* * *

 **A/N: ... Suckish place to end. But hey, I updated.**

 **I'll be looking forward to reading all of your responses!**

 **Have a merry Christmas, guys!**

 **Todoka**


	5. But Who am I?

**A/N: Personally, I don't know if this is just me, but I find it kind of funny how Shizuo and Izaya are aware of what the other 'smells' like. I mean, that itself applies a pretty sexual meaning after 'taste'. But anyway. That's just my perverseness arising.**

 **Thanks for all of your support once again! It's really nice to know that the majority of you (or all of you that I received responses from) are happy with a slow-built relationship. Reviews are always helpful to interact with readers, and I want to really show my appreciation for those that left one in whatever chapter.**

 **Please enjoy this New Year update!**

 **Happy 2017, and a happy new year!**

* * *

 **The Fifth File:**

 **"But Who am I Now?"**

When he finally opened his eyes, he had absolutely no clue how long he had been sleeping. It certainly didn't help that this fucking emergency room was secluded, without a clock or a window.

… Wait, why was he sleeping here in the first place?

And why did he feel like he had just been hit with a truck with the Eiffel tower on top? Although he was pretty sure that the Eiffel tower wasn't supposed to be in Japan.

 _"I'm just here to accept the job. I didn't come here to just save your sorry ass like a superhero and leave with a victory dance."_

Ugh.

Right.

He had just been downright _'saved ass'_ by his deadly enemy.

 _Fuck you amnesia, it was your perfect time to waltz into my life,_ Izaya thought. If Shizuo was that desperate to book a departure ticket out of Izaya's daily living, he might as well have crashed Izaya's head into Tokyo tower, dance the Macarena as his victory dance, and leave the raven to be rescued by some random pedestrian and suffer anterograde amnesia so that he'd completely forget only the portion where Shizuo protected him.

"Ah, Izaya, you're finally awake!"

Izaya grunted as he saw his 'best friend' enter the room with a dignified smile. "I wish I never did."

"Well, you can't just sleep your rich ass off at my dear apartment. Shizuo's been waiting for you for exactly fifteen hours and thirty-eight minutes upon his arrival from Shinjuku with your belongings, and let me tell you, Celty's recorded entertainment programs aren't really his favorite channels to watch." With a quite fake apologetic grin plastered over his face, Shinra gestured Izaya to come out of the room.

In truth, the informant preferred just rotting away in this room rather than resuming to his ordinary suspenseful lifestyle that no longer contained the enjoyable thrill and satisfaction. All that was remaining was his dirty old past, more muddled and grotesque than 9 years ago. Everything grows unsightly as time passes, and that included pasts, and a human being named Orihara Izaya.

"… Alright." His throat felt dry, like an arid desert. This way or that, he'd have to eventually face Shizuo again – with violence or no violence. Shinra helped him get out of bed, and asked,

"Are you sure it's okay for you to walk? I mean, it's not like you have broken legs but since your ribs are broken, it'd be quite challenging to find a balanced position when standing."

Well, if the doctor fucking knew that, then why wasn't he getting a wheelchair right this second or something? "I'm fine." Izaya straightened his back forcefully in order to prove his point. It drove a painful sharpness to surge up his body, but it wasn't like this was the first time he had been in semi-critical condition.

Shizuo, like Shinra had said, was pretty much just staring blankly at the flaring screen, with an obviously hyper Celty by his side. When he saw the flea limp out of the room, he muttered something like 'took fucking long enough' and stretched.

"You done in your dreamland?"

Izaya smirked. "I just didn't want to see your shitty face, Shizu-chan."

"Ditto." The other rolled his eyes as he turned around.

The Kishitani couple saw them off in front of the elevator, making sure Izaya had all the prescribed medicines and other pills, and also receiving a rather energy-deprived promise from Shizuo that he wouldn't kill Izaya while bandaging him. Despite not having any particular liking to Izaya, Celty didn't enjoy the thought of one dying.

Walking in pregnant silence, Shizuo and Izaya took the alleys where the informant had checked to be no surveillance cameras for the Uesugi-kai to place. Although the yakuza organization had dwelled in Ikebukuro for the past few days, based on the sole information that 'Orihara Izaya often visited this town', that probably didn't provide a solid reason to the head, Uesugi Kugaha, to support this assault mission directed by Goshiki with money to actually purchase extra devices.

Which ultimately meant, that the only areas the two men had to avoid for now, were the larger streets, were public surveillance was functional.

"There's an executive named Nejima Katsu, in the Uesugi-kai," the raven was explaining the basic characteristics of each executive to Shizuo, as they were now officially business partners. "And the only reason he became such an important person within the organization is because of his hacking skills. I don't know a system or top secret government file that that man had failed to penetrate."

"Heh." It wasn't like the beast was going to memorize all this information and put it to use, Izaya knew, but went on anyway. It was always an intelligent thought to take precautions. "What does he look like?" And Shizuo, as he was being paid (and that was really all that mattered), decided it was at least a conscientious behavior to do it well. If he was going to protect the louse, he would do it perfectly so that the other had no complaints.

"Well…" _Is it usually normal to completely recover your memories from 9 years ago? What is he expecting, this monster?_ "… If my memory is accurate, he has black hair. It was shoulder-length that time – pretty long for a man. Pale skin, and dark brown eyes. Something like that. He tied his hair into a ponytail when called for a mission. Had a peculiar personality." Izaya didn't mention though, that Nejima wasn't quite harmful as the other two individuals – time changes people, anyway."

"And then?"

"The one that probably is in charge of this onslaught is Goshiki Masamune. It is safe to assume that Eisuke Kon is also with him – those two are literally inseparable for many reasons."

"I'm not going to hear the reasons. Won't remember them."

"I wasn't going to explain them to you." Izaya snapped, and Shizuo twitched. They both considered it a miracle that they weren't starting a brawl any second.

"… Anyway," the raven recomposed himself, "Eisuke's the best fighter they have there. Nowhere near Shizu-chan's monstrous strength, but he's annoying to deal with."

"So he's like you." Shizuo automatically made the adequate comparison, as an imaginary tick mark appeared on Izaya's forehead.

"I am at least a _galaxy_ worth smarter than him. Nobody's really all that bright or too strong over there with the exception of Nejima, alright? They're just…" _If they're not strong, then why am I so afraid of them?_ "… Never mind. That's all you need to know."

The blonde made an affirmative sound as he stopped in front of his apartment's door. They slid open, as the man then paused. "Hey, do we need to use stairs? My place is on the third floor."

"Stairs?" Cried Izaya, wanting to retort at Shizuo's literal torture statement – until he remembered – security cameras were on fucking elevators.

God, damn it.

Incredulous at the paining realization, Izaya groaned as he clutched his bandaged ribs. Immobile, as _fuck_. He was fucking going to have to walk up three flights of stairs. Not one, but _three_.

The bodyguard extended his hand towards his whining employer.

Izaya stared at it.

Shizuo stared at him.

"… Are you inviting me to my new hellish paradise?" Misinterpreting the obvious meaning of an 'extended hand', Izaya inquired the bespectacled other.

"I'm offering you my _fucking_ hand to help you up the stairs, flea." _Gee, who's the dense one now?_ "And what do you mean by 'hellish paradise'? That's absolutely contradicting, just in case you didn't notice."

 _This one does not get sarcasm._ Izaya rolled his eyes. "Well, heavenly is a word you use for places like the Maldives or Hawaii, whatever. Hellish is a word you use for Shizu-chan's house."

"Whatever. So you going to use my hand or no?"

Wordless, the weakened man reached out his arm and wrapped his thin fingers around Shizuo's rough palm. The former bartender stared at this for a while, as Izaya avoided the other. Without the waste of another second, Shizuo closed his hand around Izaya's and waited for his employer to slowly make his upward.

The whole journey was supposedly what others would label as unnervingly sluggish, but in all artlessness, the said Heiwajima didn't really bother. This was not because he had suddenly developed this queer ability that allowed him to tolerate the existence of Orihara Izaya, but rather, because he was distracted.

What was the source of distraction, you ask?

Shizuo was pondering about the formation of his particular 'hatred'. On the reason of exactly why he _hated_ Izaya. As time passed, he had been 'provided' causes and several incidents that would've been deemed perfectly reasonable of his strong abhorrence. However, their initial encounter was quite different. Izaya just pissed him off right away. Maybe this was what people called 'instinct' and 'intuition'. His animalistic senses had immediately interpreted the message that 'this human is someone you want to stay away from'. It could be something as simple as that.

 _But it isn't that simple, and that's what annoys me._ He pressed his free hand against his left temple. There was a specific element that caused him to feel like this. What was it? Why did he exactly hate Izaya?

"Ne, Shizu-chan?"

He was abruptly awakened from his trance at the calling of his name. Izaya furrowed one brow and jutted his chin at the door, squirming his hand out from Shizuo's sweaty grasp. "It kind of makes it difficult to enter your house if you don't unlock the door, Shizu-chan."

Reading the situation, Shizuo pulled his keys out and opened the door. "Come in." He grunted, tossing Izaya's belongings elsewhere in the corner. "And don't move around too much. I don't want your junky smell on my furniture."

"In case you don't know what 'immobile state' means, it indicates the most minimal of movements as possible." The flea snorted, as he flopped down on his leather sofa. "And please, I bet you don't even use conditioner. Do you even take a shower, Shizu-chan?"

"What am I, an animal?"

"No, a monster."

"Fuck you."

"Likewise."

As if their argument switches have been flicked on, the two bickered over their lungs as of not being able to use physical strength. In the end, Shizuo was quick to give up the battle, as he had to call Tom about accepting the job. Izaya, disappointed by the blonde's speedy relinquish, lied down on the comfortable cushions and snuggled into a rectangular pillow.

 _Ugh._ He scrunched up his nose. _Smells like Shizuo._

"Izaya." The gruff, distant voice of the latter added the realistic sensation that this really was Heiwajima Shizuo's house. It was still rather surreal – like fiction.

After a few seconds of unbothered silence, Izaya asked, "What?"

"Are you going to take a shower? It's seven." Shizuo must've been in the kitchen or elsewhere, because he was nowhere to be seen around in the living room. The raven caressed his oily hair and sighed in slight disgust.

"Yeah, I will." He peeled his coat off, and threw his socks on top of them. "Shizu-chan, it'd be wise to put my piece of clothes to change unless you want to see my beautiful naked –"

"I do not need to see you running around naked in my house, flea. I'll give you whatever comes in reach." Grumbling as he prepared dinner, the blonde roughly opened the refrigerator in pure frustration. He still didn't understand why he had ever agreed to become a fucking bodyguard of this devilish informant. And rescued him, for that part.

Meanwhile, Orihara Izaya was undoing his tightly wrapped bandages, trying his best not to further injure his already tattered ribs. The rubbery cloth dropped to the tiled floor, as the raven carelessly shoved it to the side with his foot.

He twisted the handle to the red section, and closed his eyes. A small crease appeared on his forehead due to cold water being sprayed for the first few seconds, but then vanished as steamy, hot water poured over his shoulders. Oddly enough, the temperature was perfect, the thickness of the rays of droplets was perfect, but the occupier himself – did not feel perfect.

Which was _not_ his usual perspective of the galaxy.

Orihara Izaya was a perfectly, prudently, and delicately created 'human being'. He was painfully aware of the fact that he was not a godly existence. However, he still pursued and aimed to be a mortal that was closest to the golden heavens – or the deepest pits of hell.

 _But now I'm neither._ He turned his head to the right, and gazed at his reflection in the fogged glass. His index finger crawled up towards the detached 'foreigner' that was frowning in the surface. _Who are you?_ Drawing a thin line with his fingernails across his face, erasing the translucent part and revealing the original transparent glass, Izaya clenched his fist until his skin transformed white.

 _Who am I now?_

 _Is it even important anymore?_

"Flea, get your ass out of the shower. You're wasting my money."

 _Oh… right._ Izaya cleansed his hair. _This wasn't my apartment._ Grabbing a towel from the drawers, the raven wrapped it around his lower torso, water still dripping from the edges of his hair. Steam trickled out of the room and diffused into the vicinity. Shizuo was sitting on the couch, spinning the roll of bandages around his thumb with a perky growl.

He turned around upon hearing Izaya's footsteps, and threw his arms into the air. " _God,_ do you like, have tea parties in my shower? You took twenty _fucking_ minutes!"

"Well, sensitive minds like mine need a time of consolation where people aren't present to stare at my wonderful body." Although his commentary would've sounded witty when spoken with his usual tone, it merely released an exhausted, soulless vibe with the current state of the informant.

Shizuo, realizing the evident difference, clamped his mouth shut as Izaya slumped down on the leather exterior. Awkward silence flowed with paranoid corners around the atmosphere, as only the tacky sound of the bandages bounced across the walls. "Come on." The blonde gestured at the raven, who was sitting in a perpendicular angle from him. "You _do_ know that you need to _fuckin_ g look at me so that I can patch you up, right?" His voice was still harsh, but a lot softer. The beast was trying to convince himself that even Orihara Izaya was human – even Orihara Izaya could be affected after a traumatic experience.

Obeying without another minor altercation, Izaya avoided his gaze with Shizuo as he faced him. The bandages were wrapped around his torso, as Shizuo leaned into his body to get a firm grip.

"Done. Dinner's ready, so get your lazy ass to the kitchen. Also, change into those." Standing up without a moment of hesitation, Shizuo made his way to the dining table. Izaya sniffed the air a little, and sighed as he pulled on the navy green hoodie and black training pants Shizuo gave him, and followed behind.

When he sat down, the first thing he did was stare at the food laid out in front of him. Piping hot rice, miso soup, grilled mackerel, and pickled radish. Not the ideal gourmet meal, but good enough.

"Heh." Izaya picked up the metal chopsticks. "So Shizu-chan has a feminine side to him."

"Whatever." Reaching for the mackerel, Shizuo grumbled. "Better than nothing."

Wordless quietness was reproduced once more as the clattering of tableware along with the sound of furious munching and chewing on Shizuo's part was heard. Izaya ate a little of everything, as he had long lost his appetite.

"Hey, Shizuo."

Heiwajima Shizuo was put to a forced pause as he gradually lowered the position of his bowl of rice and highly poised chopsticks. Shizuo? The name echoed in his head. Since when did he ever call me Shizuo?

"Why'd you accept my request?" Izaya wasn't looking at him. The blonde didn't expect him to, but it pissed him off, for a reason he could not comprehend. "We're enemies."

"…" Gulping the clump of mushed food, Shizuo took his time to speak. "Beats me. I was mostly guilt-tripped by Tom-san."

"Oh." Of course. Izaya didn't know why his heart had skipped an annoying beat a second before the fortissimo opened his mouth. It was almost as if he had been hoping for a certain response, knowing that his desire wouldn't be reciprocated. And that was downright fucked up.

"But one thing I do know," Throwing his emptied dishes into the sink, Shizuo flicked the faucet on and yawned. "I don't like it when you're all droopy like this."

"But it's your perfect opportunity to kill me."

"But that's not you."

Izaya's breathing stopped. But that's not you. It was only four words. But those four words rang and were repeated over and over in his head like an endless loop like a chorus in some random poppy song. He inhaled a stale breath and began, his voice strained.

"… How so?"

Shizuo picked up the long plate that was in front of the raven. "Do you think I seriously pick up every single detail about your twisted personality?" Though I did before, he pretentiously rolled his eyes at himself.

"I suppose not." Izaya said admittedly, and then dragged himself to the couch, not bothering to hear much more. He couldn't see the point of this conversation despite the shaming fact he had started it.

The blonde flinched instinctively as he witnessed Izaya walking towards the sofa. He was uncertain of what to say to the current informant. He wasn't being evil, sly, or cunning – heck, he wasn't even sure if that Izaya was ever going to return. But both Orihara Izayas were 'real', and that was one thing he knew.

"Flea." He was still pondering on whether to say anything at all to Izaya. But the raven turned around with a blank expression, and that's when he made up his mind to talk. "… Stay as you are."

The latter blinked in confusion. "What?"

"… Nothing."

* * *

 **A/N: I honestly grew very tired after finishing this chapter, so that's as far as it goes. I think I caught a cold from my cousin today, and it's terrible.**

 **Health is important, everyone.**

 **Until my next update!**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	6. This Change is Something I Don't Like

**A/N: This chapter contains more fluffiness right off the bat! You're welcome.**

* * *

 **The Sixth File:**

 **"This Change is Something I Don't Like"**

"So, how far did you look into it?"

"Everything I could through the internet."

"Is the internet a reliable source?"

"No, but money is."

It had been exactly a week after Izaya's arrival in Shizuo's house. Fights and quarrels were their daily routine, and every second was the upbringing of a random skirmish. The only moments when those were put at a pause was when they conversed about business. Izaya snuggled into his hoodie and raised the laptop on his knees, lying down on the long sofa in Shizuo's living room. Shizuo was sitting on the floor next to his feet, drinking a hot cocoa.

"It seems like they hold a considerable amount of power in the Underground. The trade routes spread from Yokohama to Sodegaura, passing through Funabashi. Probably a hassle on their part, since their main base is in Waseda, but they also assure security purposes when it come to distance."

"Are you expecting me to remember that?"

"For the forty-fifth time this week, Shizu-chan, no."

"Are you seriously fucking counting?"

"Obviously I'm making it up on the spot. How utterly idiotic can protozoans be again?"

"Not too much."

"Your argument is invalid."

Their useless drabble always continue with no particular goal that either man possess. Neither side strives for victory, but rather to just increase the level of irritation in the other. Namely an inconsequential squabble, those were. But Izaya was somewhat relieved that Shizuo was not at his throat every living second – or else he would've been long dead.

Shutting his laptop, Izaya casually trudged up to Shizuo's wardrobe (now also _his_ wardrobe) and pulled out a black T-shirt and torn jeans. "Shizu-chan, about time we get going."

"Mm." The blonde gave an affirmative response as he turned off the drama that Kasuka was starring in. Then he closely examined Izaya's rather informal attire, and frowned. "Thought you were going to meet your employer? What's with the torn jeans?"

"Well, I'm your employer and you walk around the house in your underwear drinking dairy milk." The raven pointed out, and Shizuo shrugged – he was being reasonable there. "And besides, Shiki-san only cares so much about formalities. The only thing he really does care about is the level of politeness he requires of his own men towards his guests." Izaya packed his folders as he prepared himself to depart. "Anyway, we don't have time to waste. You better not let me die during this journey, or no cash for you." Although the informant wasn't completely vulnerable in any way, if his best line of defense, a.k.a. Heiwajima Shizuo was defeated, then he pretty much had no chance for victory. That would merely prove how strong his enemy is.

"Well, I can't have that, can I?" Shizuo smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he slipped a box of cigarettes inside it. "Hell, even if Satan comes for you, I'll murder him."

Izaya snorted as an answer. "Well, that's reassuring. Although, Shizu-chan, Satan is already dead."

"I'll kill him twice."

"Smart."

There was a reason why there was an anxious ambience that connected the two men, right at that moment. In truth, this was Izaya's first time stepping out of Shizuo's place for the past week, living in absolute seclusion and darkness, acting as if he was invisible. The raven was aware of who he was facing. Which was why, this particular journey unnerved him to no end.

 _If we're caught once, it's all done for_. He moved his grown fingernails over the smooth, oddly pacifying plastic surface of the folder he was holding. _Ah, ah, my shoulders are getting tense. We're not even outside yet, and I'm already edgy. Pathetic. Get yourself together, Izaya._ Desperately gritting his teeth in attempt to ease his breathing, Izaya put his hand over the brass doorknob. The cool feeling enraptured his heat and caused a jittery chemical reaction in his mind, and-

"Chill."

He was forcefully yanked out of his trance, by the calming warmth of his own hand being in contact with…

Shizuo's hand?

The beyond chastening realization caused his inner self to scream in a mixture of disgust and panic, along with the frantic desire to _resist_.

But he didn't.

Rather…

He couldn't.

 _I don't want to…_

He squeezed the doorknob, but Shizuo's warmth did not disappear.

… _Or do I?_

"I just told you, I'm not going to let you die. I do need you to stay alive in order to get my paycheck, Izaya." His face was in such close proximity with Izaya's that it immediately resulted in the raven taking a step towards the door, wanting to avoid the blonde. But Shizuo only mimicked his movements, making his efforts futile.

"Shizu-chan, holding my hand like this…" Izaya smirked as he twisted his face to the side, looking directly at the blonde who was expectantly waiting for the usual taunts and comebacks. _My pulse is back to normal… god, that's kind of aggravating_. _All this because of that idiotic protozoan…_ He closed his eyes and opened the door, spinning on his heel as he slipped his hand out from the now loose grip of Shizuo.

His hoodie flying in the air, his dark brown locks wavering across the slightly cloudy sky as his background, and finally the oddly mesmerizing red orbs – he opened his mouth and whispered-

"Thank you."

Heiwajima Shizuo's eyes probably had never been wider than that particular millisecond of his 23-year-old life. 'Thank you.' Just two ordinary words. It was merely a phrase that one learns when they were in pre-school, or even younger – it was a sentence that blends in with an ordinary civilization within people, and just a natural reaction, even.

Yet coming from Orihara Izaya, even that ordinariness was an eccentric occasion.

Shizuo sputtered as Izaya skipped ahead, slamming the door close as he chased after him agitatedly. _I was expecting practically anything. 'Do you love me?' or 'You're aiming for my fabulous body, aren't you? But too bad, you're too poor to buy me.' or even 'God, don't touch me. To have Shizu-chan's stench on my body… it feels like I'm rotting away and losing my intelligence at the very same time._ ' That was right. Heiwajima Shizuo was ready to withstand all those witty, humiliating comments – but not a genuine 'Thank you'.

He wouldn't have been taken back if it were Celty, Shinra, or any bizarre maniac on the streets. But because it was Izaya, things were different. Their relationship was just utterly twisted that way.

"Izaya, repeat what you just said." The blonde demanded, but the raven just smiled wickedly.

"I don't remember."

"I thought you were a guy of astuteness."

"Well, that skin-to-skin interaction just now made me slightly dumber. Thanks a lot, Shizu-chan."

"No, not _that_ kind of thanks –"

"Ah, ah, I don't know what you're talking about. Come on, we're going to be late. Shiki-san doesn't approve of tardiness- well, I don't either. So let's go before I cut it from your salary." Izaya smiled devilishly, as the blonde reluctantly shut his mouth.

 _I'd rather fall off this building than say that again._

* * *

"So Izaya-san… that is?"

"Information. What else would I have?"

"Oh, my apologies… I must've phrased my question in a quite spacious manner. _Who_ is that?"

The informant sniffed the air sheepishly, aware that the latter wasn't looking for a specific name in particular. "My bodyguard." He squirmed gawkily in his seat, with a glum Shizuo a few centimeters apart. They were all sitting around the wooden guest table located in Shiki's large office, with random men from Awakusu-kai stood near the double doors. The wallpapers were the color that reminded Izaya of death – a silky black. Almost like his fate.

Shiki crossed his right leg over his left, using his hand to support his cheek as he tilted his head to the side. "Hoh." He hummed, "Very interesting."

"Is it?" Shizuo piped up, narrowing his eyebrows as he rubbed the back of his neck. Izaya released an inaudible sigh and avoided his employee, as Shiki chuckled in pure amusement at the two's interaction.

"Yes, Heiwajima-san. I find this _very_ interesting. Putting this mission aside, Izaya-san has never hired a personal bodyguard prior. Furthermore, from what I heard, you two men are rumored to be formidable adversaries, is it not?"

" _Business_ , Shiki-san. Meaning, it is temporary. Not permanent." Quite restless, Izaya chimed, as he leaned back on the couch with a huff. "I wish to end this matter as soon as possible, if you will please."

As the executive of the Awakusu-kai was a man of set priorities, he speedily skipped over the humor and leapt into the topic – thanks to Izaya. "Very well." He hunched his body forward, entering his usual professional mode. He scanned through the printed sheets of paper Izaya had brought, with a rather unentertained Shizuo by his side. "Are these all the papers?"

"All of them that you requested of me, yes." Shrugging his shoulders, the informant said with flair. "Really, Shiki-san, I can't believe that was even a question spurting from a man of _your_ depth." Implying, 'I always did my job perfectly for the past 9 years'.

"Well, precautions are a crucial part of this business." The latter pointed out, hitting the edges of the primly stacked papers on the table's surface as he handed them to one of the lackeys that were standing beside him. "Thank you for your exceptional work as always. I believe that once we take care of this matter, the men looming around Ikebukuro would also cease to appear."

 _Now, that is false_. Izaya grumbled to himself, but maintained a straight smile on his face. "That would be quite pleasant. They're not exactly the people I would prefer to see first thing in the morning."

Shiki nodded in agreement, and then paused as he gradually reverted his attention back towards Shizuo, who was now drifting off into outer space as his jaw kind of hung in the air, as if to express his ultimate level of boredom. "Returning to our previous pep talk, Izaya-san, how did Heiwajima-san become your bodyguard?" Now that seemed to bring the blonde back to Earth.

"It's really not that significant." Izaya muttered in slight distaste in remembrance of the not-quite-epic rescue last week.

"Well, the beginning of every business is a form of a new relationship, whether that is between complete strangers or best friends." Shiki was persistent – and this was for the executive's selfish means to reach personal satisfaction in his daily humor. It was scarce for Orihara Izaya to be put off-guard, after all.

Shizuo rolled his eyes. "It wasn't all that special. I just…" The bodyguard was harshly nudged by his employer, who was glaring daggers at him – his expression was obviously to be interpreted as 'Utter one incomprehensible word, and you are fucking not going to see your breakfast tomorrow'. "… I just kind of bumped into him on the streets." He awkwardly came up with what he could on the spot, as Izaya wore an exasperated scowl.

"That is not very special, indeed." Shiki leered, giving in to the argument as he stood up on his two feet. "Well, that was enjoyable. Have a wonderful day, gentlemen, and I hope you two continue to… get along." With a rather fake polite nod, the executive exited the office with his lackeys as Izaya and Shizuo just sat there in infuriated silence.

When the raven heard the sound of resonating footsteps grow faint, he released a loud sigh and threw his arms dramatically into the air. This usually indicated that a very extensive complaint about Shizuo's protozoan brain would begin, and that was really one of the last things Shizuo wanted on his To-Do list for the day.

So before Izaya could even part his lips, Shizuo grabbed his arm and pulled him outside, as the said Orihara blinked in mere confusion. "Uh, Shizu-chan?"

"Shut up. Do you know how absolutely _horrendous_ your job sounds to a fucking stranger? Drug routes this, rape incidents that."

Izaya narrowed his eyes as he quickly retorted, "Being an informant is not particularly because it is to my liking, but because it brings a humorous light to this dull life. And I apologize, _not_ , but this mission specifically requires to further conduct research in the Red Light District of the region. If your minor protozoan –"

"Being involved in those exact circumstances would result in _your_ danger and will stand as a threat to _your_ life. Why don't _you_ understand that?" Now, Heiwajima Shizuo wasn't quite certain himself as to why he was suddenly so stressed out about this topic. It wasn't anything new that the informant invited himself into series of peril every single day, and it wasn't anything new for the past week or the last 8 years ever since they encountered that the informant irritated him to no end. Maybe that pent up frustration was finally rumbling at the surface, ready to explode and shatter into pieces.

Just that it wasn't that.

Fuck this complicated thing called 'emotions'.

The informant, on the other hand, possessed a perplexed frown on his stout face. "… Why does that suddenly matter to you, _hm_? Shizu-chan, I believe we weren't of that kind of civil relationship." He pointed out, and Shizuo furrowed his brows.

To be honest, he didn't know. He didn't know why he had suddenly decided to blurt out his inner thoughts to Izaya, he didn't know why he had suddenly felt that this mission was just utterly vexing, and he didn't know why he had suddenly treated Izaya like he would to every other human being.

In other words, they weren't supposed to be like this.

Shizuo chewed on his bottom lip, as Izaya stepped closer and closer, until he was only a mere inch away from him.

"Don't act like you're all suddenly concerned and nice, _Shizu-chan_." Izaya seethed, his voice tainted with detestation and disgust. "Don't _ever_ act like a human being around me." The hatred was so deeply implanted into Izaya's mind and soul that Shizuo was almost bothered by it. No, scratch that – he was _very_ bothered by it. Which was odd, because anything that Izaya said hardly ever affected him emotionally.

This change was definitely something he didn't like.

In fact, he absolutely abhorred this abrupt change that entered his life, and rigged up their already complicated bond.

But time stopped as Izaya gritted out that sentence, and something strained Shizuo's heart as unidentified strings of emotion was plucked cruelly within. He could hear his pulse roar throughout his ears, as Izaya pushed him out of the way to trudge towards the exit.

 _Tch_. Shizuo fixed the position of his vest, as he gripped the insides of his pockets and turned around to follow the other out.

 _Just what the hell am I doing_ …

* * *

That evening was a truly quiet evening. Neither Shizuo nor Izaya ushered another word or syllable after that one-sided malicious conversation – they performed their usual routine: eat dinner, take a shower, do independent work, and then go to sleep. It was simple, and didn't require any form of communication between the two. Normally, whether one side desired it or not, the other would always suggest a source of material that would inevitably lead to the twenty-something-ish dispute of the day. But that evening was different.

No words were exchanged. No actions held any meaning and weren't to be interpreted some other way. No eye contact was made; in attempt to utterly efface each other's existence from the room of their minds.

Izaya snuggled into the bed that he slept on as he covered his head with the futon.

 _"Don't ever act like a human being around me."_

The raven groaned in regretful silence. It wasn't like he believed that he was guilty for this awkwardness in the room. He even _meant_ every single syllable of what he had said. So what was the problem, exactly? Even Orihara Izaya couldn't seem to place a finger on the answer.

 _I hate him._

 _"Thank you."_

… _Or do I?_

* * *

 **A/N: If this chapter seems short, then that's probably because it is. This chapter is supposed to be short, but I swear, the following chapter would be long.**

 **Thanks for your support once again, guys!**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	7. You Can't Die You Wouldn't

**A/N: Hello, guys! This is an un-edited chapter, and therefore will possibly (most likely) contain many errors. Please bear with me.**

 **I also apologize for the delayed update. It was supposed to come earlier, I swear, but last weekend I did something stupid called "Trying to gain two extra credit points" and worked on our school play's poster for like seven hours of my weekend. I have also been bombarded with quizzes and tests – I was crazy enough to leave my schedule as is when I had two computer courses in one semester. Bad idea, trust me. I have two tests and six quizzes coming up this following week, then a community service camp that takes up the whole week, then more school work. So yeah, next update might be slow.**

 **Also, there is a very brief Bungou Stray Dogs reference here (VERY BRIEF), due to the Uesugi-kai's main base route spreading from Yokohama to Funabashi. For those that get it, I hope you get a short laugh, and for those that don't, just ignore it.**

 **Thanks for your support, guys!**

* * *

 **The Seventh File:**

" **You Can't Die. You Wouldn't."**

It had been approximately twenty hours since their curt altercation – and now it was 6:47 in the afternoon. The men seldom began a proper conversation unless it was absolutely necessary throughout the whole day, and to be honest, it was starting to get on their nerves (albeit both men denying it). Shizuo's apartment wasn't exactly the most enormous place in the universe, and it was a pretty challenging task to not run into one another every five minutes as they tried to get a glass of water or something.

So during dinner, Shizuo shattered the ice, as he slammed his pair of chopsticks on the table. Which didn't really result in a nice table, but was sufficient to get Izaya's attention.

"Look, I get it. I'm fucking sorry. Now would you _please_ stop glaring at me every time you _think_ I'm not looking?" The blonde exclaimed in frustration, as Izaya twirled his spoon inside his bowl, mixing up the veggies and pieces of meat.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

" _Izaya_."

The informant casually chewed on the grilled salmon as he plopped the fish into his mouth. "Yes, Shizu- _chan_?" He innocently smiled; further triggering Shizuo's fury. Izaya sharpened the look of his eyes and lowered the silverware he was holding. It wasn't like he was particularly irate towards the behavior of the other male – he was just… he didn't know how act. Yes, _the_ great and honorable Orihara Izaya was facing major troubles trying to keep up a proper façade. He actually couldn't decipher the reason why, even after spending about fourteen hours on the matter itself.

"Just…" Shizuo stammered a little, still flabbergasted at the utterly flippant reaction of the said Orihara. "Say something."

"Something." Izaya chirped, as he popped a natto (Japanese fermented beans) into his mouth. The blonde looked all the more ready to throw a washing machine over his living body. "If you throw _anything_ over my head, I'm taking it away from your paycheck." Shizuo seethed as he lowered his shoulders, massaging the bridge of his nose. He regretted receiving this job. He was regretting deeply, to the pits of hell.

 _Is there really even the_ slightest _necessity to mend this awkwardness, anyway?_ Shizuo slumped over in his chair, wrapping one arm around the wooden rest of the furniture. The dining room was once again enraptured in silence, as the lamp above them flickered, occasionally darkening the beige-painted ceiling. Izaya seemed unbothered by it – but Shizuo was bothered by the existence of the particular human being sitting in front of him. "Tch." He made a disapproving sound with his tongue as he sat up, holding his dishes as he threw them into the sink. "Your turn to do the dishes, remember?"

Izaya's eyes hinted slight annoyance, but looked back down at his bowl of rice and shrugged his shoulders – in which Shizuo received as a 'yes'. The blonde headed to the living room, where traces of the informant lingered over the whole vicinity. The essence of the other male was literally blotched in every single square, and every single corner. It was rather unnerving.

Regardless, Shizuo relaxed on the sofa, feeling his skin cool as it came in contact with the chilled leather. He was trying to figure out himself, and this utterly unexplainable situation. Yes, he was pretty certain that he still despised the other 'human being' that was currently turning on the faucet to wash the dishes in his very own kitchen. But at the same time, he didn't hate him to extent that he wanted Izaya to throw himself off Tokyo Tower. Which was a significant improvement, at least according to Shizuo's viewing standards.

Maybe he had gotten used to the flea's arrogant attitude as he lived with him around a week or so? _Nah, I knew him for the past 8 years and that didn't happen._ Shizuo shook away that first idea into the garbage can. Maybe it was because he pitied Izaya's current disposition? _Pity? No, that's not it._ Then perhaps, maybe his willpower weakened, seeing the raven in such a vulnerable state mentally and physically, just a week ago?

Shizuo paused at that.

 _Well, I always didn't have a liking to bullying the weak, no matter how fucking infuriating they can be._ The weaker people were to be protected, and the evil ones were to be ass-fucked. But Orihara Izaya was kind of the medium of both elements now, and it was almost like Shizuo's brain was trying to decide which category the flea went under. _Weak? But he isn't… weak._ So he must be evil, was the next conclusion he attempted to reach.

" _Thank you."_

… But the evil never expressed their thanks.

Shizuo let out a loud groan. This was fucking _it_. Orihara Izaya was just too damn confusing. An ordinary human being was not supposed to be so sophisticatedly programmed. But then again, Orihara Izaya had quite a distance from the word 'ordinary'. Not like Shizuo was in the place to complain, though.

Footsteps approached the protozoan, as the fortissimo cracked open his left eye to see a blurred image of the said 'damn confusing human' standing beside him, with his arms crossed.

"Shizu-chan." Great, 'damn confusing human' was _talking_ now.

"What?"

It was more of a demand than a question, Izaya noticed. With furrowed eyes and damp fingers, the man continued: "Shiki-san just called. We need to go to his office again tomorrow."

Shizuo swept his hand over his face – he was clearly exhausted. "I thought you gave him what he wanted like a fucking day ago?"

Snorting, Izaya rolled his eyes. "Well, bosses tend to ask for a lot, in case you haven't noticed."

The blonde glanced at the other, and grumbled. "Yeah, I noticed _that much_." He made space for Izaya to sit down on the sofa as he folded his legs upward, the raven motioning at him to move over. The latter crumpled himself as he fit into the narrow space, not wanting to sit on the cold floor. "So, what's the deal with your boss now?" _Man,_ Shizuo thought absentmindedly, _I really want a smoke right now._

"He apparently has a request of some sort." Izaya mumbled, growing drowsy from the comfortable warmth. Their obstinate air from before had now diminished, as both of them tried to cooperate in continuing this peaceful conversation. Shizuo tried to take into account that Izaya's body was still not fully healed, and well, patients were generally always in a rather cranky mood.

"Request." Repeating in a rather pensive manner, Shizuo imagined what that could be. Obviously Izaya didn't know much more than he did, as he wasn't specifying on anything else. One thing that his instinct was frantically telling him, was that it definitely wasn't going to be an entirely tranquil request.

A moment of silence engulfed the room, but it wasn't one of those icy pauses. It wasn't like it was comfortable or anything that made them feel "at home" either (despite the fact that this _was_ their home), but this kind of quiet was just… them. It was an atmosphere that only they could create amongst themselves, although it was difficult to express in words.

"Hey, Shizu-chan." Izaya was the one to break it first. "I want to sleep here today. You can have the bed to yourself."

The bodyguard blinked. "Oh. Okay." For some reason, Shizuo didn't feel like inquiring further on the matter. If the informant wanted space, he was going to give it to him. Besides, there was no reason for the Heiwajima to press on the other male's business. This whole deal was temporary, after all.

 _Temporary… that's right._ Shizuo reminded himself, as he grabbed some extra futons from the closet. He shuffled towards the living room again, as he placed his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. _This is temporary. Stop caring, Heiwajima Shizuo._

"Here." He tossed the pieces of soft blankets over Izaya's slim figure.

The raven didn't say anything in response. Seeing how the carpet near the bathroom was slightly dislocated, it seemed like he had quickly brushed his teeth. Izaya squirmed under the fabrics, until his whole body was fully covered. Shizuo made his way to the bathroom, picked up his black toothbrush (Izaya got a yellow one) and squirted the remaining paste over it. Then he stopped for a short second, as he pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth.

 _Black._ He observed bitterly. Then he looked over at Izaya's. _Yellow. No, that's almost… blonde._ Something about that contrast of colors bothered him. But then again, almost everything seemed to bother him nowadays. Hanging the brush on one of the holders, Shizuo wiped his mouth with a dry towel and stepped out.

Only one of the lights of the living room was turned on, and that was the one near their entrance, and also right next to their bedroom. _Well, it's supposedly_ my _bedroom, but whatever._ "Hey, you awake?" He stood next to the sofa, and tilted his head to the side, hoping to get a peek at some kind of physical shape of Izaya, but with no avail. Nobody replied.

"Whatever. G'night." Shizuo grunted, as he turned away.

"…" A low murmur resounded throughout the area, as the blonde blinked.

"What did you say?" He frowned, and the figure under the sheets stirred.

"'Night to you too." Izaya said a little louder than before, as Shizuo's lips tightened around its edges. He was pretty sure that that wasn't what Izaya had said, but decided it would be pointless to interrogate him about it.

Must've been something trivial, anyway.

* * *

Soon enough, the following morning, they were back at the Awakusu-kai's central department, in Shiki's large office. Shizuo wondered whether Shiki ever went out of this particular space – every time he saw the executive, he seemed so perfectly glued to his chair.

"Pleasure to have you again, Heiwajima-san, Izaya-san." Shiki addressed formally. Then after about three seconds of scanning the pair, the elder a smile crept up his face. "You two have reconciled, I see."

Both Izaya and Shizuo flinched simultaneously, the raven's right eye twitching, and the blonde's index finger hitting the surface of the armrest with a little more power than initially intended. The wooden armrest cracked with an unpleasant sound echoing throughout the office. The lackeys that stood with stiff postures around the walls tensed up a little, upon witnessing the fearsome sight.

Izaya, however, was quick to regain his calm. "It was never much of a serious argument in the first place." _Even before that, I have no idea how he figured out that we were fighting, but anyway._ The informant overlooked such minorities, and teleported straight to his main point. "So, what's your request?"

"Ah, right." Shiki hummed, as he leaned forward into the desk. The beast of Ikebukuro avoided eye contact with the executive, not really wanting to acquaint himself further with such a man. "I almost forgot why I called you here." He chuckled with dry humor. There was something that set off Shizuo about that man and this office – maybe it was because he felt like they were constantly being watched, with all those extra men in presence and those sheathed security cameras blinking in the corners of the black walls.

There was also the fact that the office was so utterly empty – literally the only furniture there was a desk, a shelf, a guest table, and like four chairs. Compared to that, the room was enormous – whoever did the interior design must've been an amateur or hated having an average office.

Shiki took no notice of this, and went on. "Well, our _don_ (boss of a yakuza organization), Dougen-san, has said that we cannot waste our men on the oppression of the Uesugi-kai, for the time being. Akabayashi agreed… we are short on members, due to small skirmishes that we have going on with the Takasu-kai from Chiba, as well as taking care of the other deals that are occurring underground between Ikebukuro and Shinjuku. We found a roppongi nearby downtown that apparently had been used for a center of drug trade, and we were ordered to completely wipe it out."

"… Alright." Izaya chewed on the interior layer of his lips, careful not to bite too hard to draw blood. He didn't exactly like where this conversation was heading, and neither did Shizuo.

"So, Dougen-san has ordered, that for now, you'd have to take care of the Uesugi-kai by yourself."

As the sentence ended, the informant felt as if someone had suddenly tightly gripped all his guts and twisted them together, mashing them into a jumble of squashed potatoes. The fluttering image of Goshiki shot over his head, as he swiftly recalled the unpleasant events that occurred the other day when he was at his apartment, alone. The videos that were constantly sent to his personal email, along with the bloodstained messages… it all seemed to attack him at once, eating up his conscience.

Luckily, Shizuo was quick to yank him back into shape. "On my pathetic boss's behalf, I refuse to take up that request. _You_ do something about it." Surprisingly, what Izaya first caught was not the negative adjective used to describe him, but how the blonde was speaking on his behalf. Normally, he wouldn't give a fuck. It was somewhat depressing, but true.

… _Wait, no. It's not depressing. What am I thinking?_ The male scowled at his trail of thoughts.

Shiki, on the other side of this tension, raised a questioning eyebrow. "I think I just clearly explained myself on the behalf of _my_ boss on why we _can't_ do something about it, Heiwajima-san."

"Well, you guys are obviously comfortable with kicking people's asses, so I don't see the reason why you always have to order around your pawns like this is a game of chess. You guys have like a hundred healthy men including yourselves, and we have two." The bodyguard replied haughtily, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his legs. Izaya seemed dumbfounded for a while, trying to intake this whole situation of Shizuo's attempt on "defending" him.

"In my opinion, you'd be stronger than all my men together, Heiwajima-san. You shouldn't underestimate the power of the most efficient informant in Japan, and the strongest man of Ikebukuro in one set." The said 'efficient informant' slowly turned his attention towards Shiki. He was pretty sure that Shiki meant it to be a compliment, but he didn't feel flattered in the slightest - the way he described them almost possessed the nuance of something like a 'Mega Cheeseburger set', as if to make fun of them.

But no, Shizuo wasn't willing to back down, either. "I don't know what you fucking don't understand about 'you do something about it' – I think I made it sound simple enough."

However, Shiki wasn't a man to be easily triggered. "I believe I have already stated our stance regarding this issue, Heiwajima-san."

"You fucking –" The beast balled his fists as the chair he was seated on a while ago was furiously thrown back on the floor, tumbling and rolling over at the sheer force of Shizuo. Izaya was quick to analyze the situation, and grasped the hem of the blonde's shirt. " _What_?" The fortissimo hollered, but quickly cooled off as he saw Izaya giving him a stern look. His expression seemed to contain the message, 'You. Me. Talk. Now.'

"Excuse us." Izaya muttered under his breath, dragging the blonde out of the dark office. They stepped about twenty meters away from the door, as Shizuo jerked his arm out of the raven's tight grip.

"What are you –"

" _What do you think you're doing_." It was not a question, Shizuo remarked, as the informant enunciated every single syllable that was present in that sentence. Izaya was legitimately in a highly irate state of mind, but really, the beast could hardly give a shit.

"You're fucking _insane_ if you accept that request, flea." The former bartender began, as Izaya narrowed his eyes provocatively. "Fucking listen. This isn't some kind of funny joke, Izaya. You're up against a whole organization, and if you think I can always keep a pretty eye on you when that happens –"

"What do you take me as – a Barbie doll?" Izaya shot back before he could even finish.

"Well, you sure weren't so strong enough to fucking protect yourself from two lousy men when I visited last time."

"That time was –"

"The same. Fucking _same_. I don't know what's going on in that brain of yours, and in fact, I don't _want_ to know what's going on in that brain of yours – but if you seriously plan on accepting that, throw it away in the rubbish bin. It's all a shitload of crap, you know that."

"I do. But it's up to me whether I accept this or not."

Shizuo's firm voice slightly faltered as he took a step backward. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into –"

"I spent fourteen years of life with them. Of course I know what I'm getting myself into." That was precisely correct. Izaya knew perfectly and better than any other intellect in the world of what he was getting himself into. There was a good 0.4 percent chance of clean victory, and about 87.5 percent chance that he'd escape with fatal injuries. However, he had at least a 90 percent probability of dying compared to his superhuman bodyguard.

All in all, this was insane.

As if he didn't know that yet, right?

"I don't think you're aware of this, but it is pretty much living the life of James Bond for me, just to protect you from a bunch of squandering rascals while crossing a road _here_ , in Ikebukuro. And that's only because of my fucking _re-pu-ta-tion_." It wasn't like Heiwajima Shizuo took a particular superiority in the fact that he was labeled the strongest man in the county. On the contrary, he despised it. But despite how he felt about the alias, it came in handy while being in Ikebukuro, and became somewhat bearable. But that only did so much when they were outside of this town.

"A reputation is something others create for you, not something that you create for yourself." Izaya leaned back on the steel wall. He honestly had no idea why this argument was occurring in the first place – all Shizuo had to do was comply with his methods, right? "I hear there's a pretty powerful detective agency in Yokohama, where the Uesugi-kai is. People made quite a reputation for them, it seems. We just need to do same."

"I don't care about _that_. You're terribly mistaken if you think I'm doing this job because I'm suddenly fine lounging around in your presence." The blonde seethed, as he gripped the sleek surface of the metal wall beside him. He desperately wanted something where he could take his muddled emotions out on – man, where were the vending machines when he needed them?

They were both equally aggravated as the other, although placed in two opposite standpoints. Izaya couldn't logically comprehend the cause of why Shizuo was suddenly so against this idea of being involved in the predicament of the underground. This was his life – this was _their_ life. They both jumped into it knowing well than any other connoisseur that this job will might as well kill them once they began. Izaya was a targeted information broker, and Shizuo was his bodyguard. Hell's doors weren't very far away – what made it so different now?

"If you're _not_ fine lounging around in my presence then why don't you just fucking quit and leave me _alone_?" Izaya was fed up with this shit. He was tired of trying to play all nice-guy with Shizuo, he was tired of trying to meet a compromising point with this man- no, this _monster_ , and he was tired of himself on how indecisive he was regarding how he felt about this Heiwajima Shizuo.

"Because I –" Shizuo snarled as his eyes flared with anger, his fists clenching once again as he prepared himself to strike the man in front of him.

 _But why_ can't _I leave him alone?_

His lips pursed into a thin line as his balled fist gradually lowered back to his side. The empty hallway was oddly silent than he initially remembered, and the color black became overwhelming as it surrounded both of them, the bright orange chandelier being the only source of light in the narrow pathway.

 _You hate him._

Something heavy seemed to have landed on the corner of his heart as he muttered those three words to himself. Almost as if… as if…

As if he didn't mean it.

 _But that can't be true._ Shizuo licked his lips, anxious. Izaya was not uttering a single syllable through this whole intervention of wordless minutes, as he merely drowned himself in his own speculations and ideas.

Suddenly, the door to Shiki's office opened again, and the executive poked his head from the gap. "I would like to hear an answer from you two gentlemen soon, if you're done discussing." A sly smile slithered up the middle-aged man's face, as Izaya didn't pass on a second glance to look at the blonde. His hunched back seemed to say: 'Follow me, or ditch the job.'

The door was left open for Shizuo to enter – as if to inform the man that it was his choice to make. If he entered that office again, he'd be continuing his job as Izaya's personal bodyguard. If he left this building, he'd be free permanently from these waves of emotional turmoil. _But…_

But if that happened, the informant was probably never going to return.

 _Isn't that what I wanted, all these years? For that damned flea to kill himself._

 _Holding Orihara Izaya's trembling hand on the doorknob, their pulses became measures of the identical beat, strumming a tune as they began to synchronize. Izaya's eyes narrowed, and then relaxed. Opening the door, his figure blended in with the beautiful shade of the dawn, as he said-_

"Thank you."

Shizuo whispered under his breath, staring at his palm.

He turned his attention to the door, and-

 _I don't want him to die._


	8. I'm Lying, Of Course

**A/N: Hi, guys! I'm finally back from my community service camp, and it was terrible except for the community service part of it. Haha. Side note: painting is very fun, washing brushes isn't.**

 **So, this chapter is just the usual, except for the fact that I decided to reveal a new perspective. I hope this instigates new understanding for the story.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Eighth File:**

" **I'm lying, of course."**

Orihara Izaya considered himself to be a simple man, despite what others seemed to believe. If matters got troublesome, he made it even more troublesome. If the mood was peaceful, he broke the peace. He was truly a simple, twisted man.

But Heiwajima Shizuo wasn't. On Mondays he'd be sweet, on Tuesdays he'd be insane, and on Wednesdays he made attempts to be nice – his identity seemed to warp into something else entirely every single day – for absolutely no reason. An ordinary human being was supposed to be predictable, or considerably vulnerable to his viewpoint after some time of thorough observation. People had patterns, and those patterns repeated unless a foreign element penetrated that.

Maybe that was why he began to call Shizuo a 'monster'. Orihara Izaya also seemingly forgot the cause behind that label; it just kind of stuck with both of them after a while. Izaya loved a suspenseful challenge, but he didn't like unpredictable events ruining his carefully placed pawns. Heiwajima Shizuo was exactly that said 'unpredictable event'.

This was a perfectly reasonable backup for why Izaya was so utterly befuddled with the current situation he was forced to deal with. They were both slouched on the sofa in Shizuo's living room, their feet barely touching as they both leaned towards opposite directions. Only the low hum of the electric fan to their right and the hysterical laugh of the audience participating in a comedy show on TV echoed throughout the vicinity, both males not paying any attention to it.

Ever since they had returned from the Awakusu-kai's main department an hour ago, this everlasting silence has continued. They suffered from a tense argument regarding Izaya accepting the mission, only to have Shizuo abide to Shiki's methods later on. The raven had no idea why the blonde had suddenly decided to change his mind after being so heated up about it, but then again, it was Heiwajima Shizuo. He was weird.

Usually it was Shizuo who took up the role as the conversation starter, but Izaya couldn't see that happening any soon, judging by the way Shizuo's body was completely twisted to the left, avoiding all type of contact with Izaya.

"… Shizu…" The informant trailed off a little at the end, unsure what suffix he was supposed to use. "… chan." However, his oh-so-beloved bodyguard did not look back. Ruffling his own damp hair, Izaya closed his eyes, agitated by the nonexistent reaction. "Look, I don't know why _you're_ the quiet one after all that commotion and hassle you made me go through back there…" Izaya cracked open his left eye to see if Shizuo's stiff position had changed a little. It hadn't.

 _Damn it._ Biting his lower lip, the male dropped his folded legs on the cold, tiled floor. "… But will you at least make the effort of cooking dinner?" _Magnificent, Orihara Izaya, after an hour of this and all you could think of saying was cooking dinner. 11 out of 10 for originality._ Then he paused as he opened both of his eyes. _Wait, why do I even care?_

Amidst his trail of thoughts, Shizuo finally spoke up. "You make it yourself. I'm not hungry."

Clenching his jaw, Izaya narrowed his eyes to form a disappointed frown. _I can't cook, you bastard._ Well, correction. He could cook – just not proficiently. "Hmph." He hauled the pillow he was holding onto towards Shizuo's face, and stomped his way through to the kitchen. _So much for trying to initiate a conversation._ He ranted endlessly inward, his mind processing a pile of insults that were capable of being used. Yanking the cupboard open, he reached for the instant cup ramen noodles that were left untouched ever since they were purchased months ago.

Muttering some more curses under his breath, Izaya poured three cups of water into the boiler and slapped the lid close, waiting for the steam to be puffed out from the surface. The kitchen light flickered over his head, blinking once, then twice.

A continuous hiss was heard a few minutes later, as the man tore the cup ramen open, cutting the petite bag that contained the sodium-packed powder. He shook the contents onto the circular-shaped noodles, and then fumbled to the right to find the handle of the jug of boiling water.

 _Bzzzt-_

Just as his fingers wrapped around the smooth handle, the lights turned off out of nowhere, catching Izaya off guard as he lost his firm grip on the apparatus. _Shit-_

The boiler crashed into the marble floor with a loud, unpleasant sound as the lid came off, hot water slithering over the surface as it heated its surroundings with a significant difference in temperature. Some water droplets splattered over Izaya's skin in the darkness, causing the vulnerable male to quickly step backward, receiving an odd feeling of déjà vu.

" _FLEA_!"

His atrocious nickname was hollered with a panicked voice that Izaya barely recognized. A damaging crack was heard as the boiler was kicked aside, out of Shizuo's way, the monster casually stepping into the puddle of hotness as if it was just some spilled juice on the floor. His rough hands searched with desperate needs of assurance, as they grasped onto Izaya's thin arms.

A sigh of relief escaped the blonde's lips, as on the other hand, the raven wore a puzzled expression, not even trying to conceal it, as their surroundings were pitch black.

The lights then sputtered a little, until it turned back on with a snap. Shizuo's hands were still holding onto Izaya's arms, as the unfilled cup of ramen was now leaning on its side, due to the powerful impact Shizuo had hit it with while trying to reach the other male.

It was Izaya that lowered his held arms, as Shizuo's tight, painful grip slowly loosened. "… Um, Shizu-chan?" His pair of arms was released free, as the taller man clenched his fists together, refusing to return the gaze of Izaya. Then the said employer's eyes traveled cautiously down towards Shizuo's feet that had transformed into an angry red color as the water sizzled beneath them. "Shizu-chan, your feet." Izaya clutched the hem of his bodyguard's shirt, trying to notify the latter of his rather alarming discovery.

But instead, Shizuo looked up and tilted his head to the side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm _fine_." Tugging impatiently at the fortissimo's sleeve, Izaya dragged him out of the kitchen. The pain finally seemed to be getting some attention by its owner, as a low growl evaded from Shizuo's mouth as Izaya pulled him along the living room, pushing him down on the couch. "Who are _you_ to worry your ass off about when _your_ feet is fucking _burning_?" He was utterly infuriated, but had no idea why.

"A burn won't kill you." Shizuo winced, not because of the physical pain, but because of Izaya's sharp remarks.

"A few steaming droplets on my ankles won't hurt me either." Then rolling his eyes, Izaya trotted off to the bathroom, where he took out a first aid kit from the drawers and returned. As he crouched down on the floor, Izaya opened his mouth to speak.

"You know, I always thought it was good thing to get your feet washed, especially since Shizu-chan's feet stink." He ripped the plastic bag with bandages inside. "But that didn't mean you needed to go all out and wash it with boiling hot water."

"Shut it, flea." He didn't even wince as the said insect wrapped the bandage around the burned area. He almost instantly regretted sprinting like an insane man towards Izaya when the lights turned off, and the terrifyingly resonating sound of a painful crash echoed throughout his apartment. The way he couldn't even realize whether water was even sizzling under his feet or not, the ludicrous wave of relief that washed over him as he heard Izaya's assuring voice, and the slight tremble of his own hands that were tightly grasping the raven's thin arms…

It was too unlike him to be true.

 _I couldn't have been worried._ Shizuo shut his eyes, as he felt Izaya's fingers depart from his skin. _I hate him, after all._ "Just an instinct…" He whispered inaudibly, as Izaya caught the words just by a mere centimeter of distance away. His eyes widened slightly upon hearing it, but bit down on his lip and returned to the bathroom to put the first aid kit away.

Izaya was pretty certain he was starving a while ago, but after that particular incident, his appetite had vanished into the air. It was only nine in the evening – way too early to sleep. But there was no topic to instigate a conversation, and Izaya wasn't even sure whether he wanted to talk to the other male at this utterly obstinate moment of silence.

But unfortunately, a question sparked into his mind.

"Hey, Shizu-chan."

The blonde didn't reply, but just glanced at Izaya, and then looked away.

"Why did you accept the job?"

Shizuo raised a brow, and then turned his undivided attention to the informant. "You mean the bodyguard thing?"

"Obviously."

The Heiwajima shrugged, as Izaya puffed his cheeks. He added, "I mean, you hate me, vice versa. You got your paycheck, so there's no harm in chickening out now."

"I guess you have a point there," opening a bag of potato chips, Shizuo popped one into his mouth. "But it's not like I want you to die, either."

"You _don't_?" Izaya seemed genuinely surprised. "Is the protozoan becoming more human?"

"I guess."

His lips twitching, the informant crossed his legs. This 'accepting' version of Shizuo was rather irritating (not to mention, boring) to a certain extent – even to the point where it was causing a considerable amount of apprehension on his part. This was a Heiwajima Shizuo that he was unaware of, possessed a margin of knowledge close to zero percent, and also a style of behavior that Izaya was unsure how to feel about. It would be more reassuring if Shizuo tried to kill him every now and then, but apparently that wasn't going to be the case anytime soon.

Then he finally heaved a light sigh, brushing off the needless thoughts from his mind. "I'm going to sleep." They had a rather busy day tomorrow – first, they had to travel to (with going unnoticed) Shizuo's office, like, actual _office_ , in order to borrow Tom's car. The tax collector had agreed to let them borrow it as long as they followed the condition of at least bringing the vehicle back in a state where it was _fixable_ if damaged. Then they had to drive for forty minutes to Yokohama, where the Uesugi-kai's main base was located – or rather, the starting point of their line of bases.

Izaya's job in the mission given was to observe and inspect the movements of drug trade along the routes, and nothing else – but it was risky task, as the enemies knew who Izaya was, and vice versa. Shizuo was skeptical about the circumstance they were placed into, but reluctantly agreed. It wasn't like bodyguards had a choice in their missions.

"Didn't you say you were hungry?" The blonde frowned, knitting his brows together.

"Yeah, if Shizu-chan would stop being such a sassy bastard then I wouldn't be, but I lost my appetite. So I'm done, I'm going to sleep."

"Stop complaining and learn, you sissy."

"You sis –" Izaya stopped abruptly upon hearing the particular alias entitled to him, but then held his breath and recomposed himself. "Whatever." He stepped into the bathroom and grabbed his dirty blonde toothbrush, shoving it into his mouth as he madly rubbed the soles against his teeth, venting out his frustration. Shizuo soon followed in – he found no point in staying awake, anyway.

The bodyguard grabbed his own toothbrush and started brushing. Izaya spat out the contents and wordlessly exited first, as he rolled into the bed. The raven never comprehended the reason of why Shizuo had two single beds in his room, but the latter merely said it was for the purpose of visitors or family meetings, mainly Kasuka.

He flinched slightly upon hearing the definitive click of the door closing, followed by some sliding sound effects as well as some woody creaks from Shizuo's bed. Their backs were turned against each other's, and both men couldn't see one another from their range of vision. They were both staring at their respective walls, the atmosphere engulfed in their usual silence.

It was the Heiwajima that suddenly spoke up, when Izaya was almost asleep.

"… Hey."

Cracking his lids open, the informant opened his eyes but didn't respond.

"You're a lot more expressive nowadays." As if he could almost tell whether Izaya was awake or not with his animalistic sense, Shizuo went on.

After a few thoughtful seconds of muted voices, the red eyes flashed in the darkness. "… Probably just you."

"It isn't."

Izaya clenched the futon tightly, biting his lower lip. He felt like he was cornered into an inevasible cubicle, surrounded by walls called Heiwajima Shizuo, entrapped in vicinity that reeked of his beast-like scent, as the suffocating atmosphere slowly, but surely crept towards him, filled with murderous intent. It was so utterly vexing that the other man said those two words with such certainty, as if he was a clairvoyant that could see right through him.

Neither of the men instigated a new conversation after that, but both could easily communicate a million of words through the quiet.

Words that held so much meaning, words that could be easily understood, but words that weren't spoken.

* * *

"Masamune, I heard you found your little Izaya-kun again?"

"Ah, I did. He ran away all over again, though. That little piece of shit."

"For a little piece of shit, he sure did a good job of making a brainless idiot like you an executive."

"Kon, if you fucking utter another word, your fingers are going to break."

"How scary."

Goshiki Masamune was smoking another cigarette at the main base of the Uesugi-kai, in his office. Ikebukuro was a bustling city, and the man didn't enjoy the company of humans too much, despite being one himself. Another head executive alongside him sat Eisuke Kon – who was sitting on a rocking chair, reading _Rashomon,_ a book written by Akutagawa Ryunosuke. Albeit acquainted for at least fifteen years, the relationship of two hadn't improved or worsened for the better in the slightest – they solely cooperated for the purpose of not creating another source of conflict for their organization.

"Speaking of Izaya-kun, isn't it still a mystery? His escapade, I mean…" Eisuke continued, as he turned a page. "His evasive nature is something I am surprised about, but for a fourteen-year-old to successfully escape from this base…" He closed the book, tilting his head at Goshiki, who was staring at the window. "What do you think?"

Goshiki grunted, as he blew out a puff of smoke from the surface of his lips. "Neither of us were on duty then, and Katsu was performing a mission regarding the Shimada-kai. Security was weak. He was probably waiting for the right timing." The cold, distant atmosphere between two seemed to be more emphasized than ever, accompanied by the gray, impassive color of the walls in the office.

"Isn't it odd, though? No camera footage was recorded afterward, nobody spotted him even once, and the emergency bells didn't go off automatically when he got out of his cell. I find it rather mystifying." Eisuke Kon was a smart and suspicious man. He loved making a hypothesis and assumptions. Not to mention, he was a callous man that held a high caliber for assassination, and was even rumored that his sexual preference was a human's blood.

"What are you suggesting, Kon?" Displeased at the constant pesters of his sly comrade, Goshiki pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and nonchalantly placed his arm on the ledge of the window.

"That one of us… He had an accomplice among the Uesugi-kai when he fled." Eisuke smiled, taking out his handkerchief as he wiped his razor blade. "Of course, it's merely a suggestion. Izaya-kun is a very bright man, anyway." He observed his facial features on the reflective surface of the metal, and subconsciously rubbed his chin. For a yakuza, he was considered rather good-looking – dark, straight hair, pale skin, tall and lean physique, and alluring auburn eyes. Perhaps, that's what made him ever so deceiving.

Goshiki didn't respond to that, as he warily stared at the hushed city down them. "Accomplice… eh." He lowered his cigarette from his lips, and closed his eyes. Then with a confident smirk, he whispered,

"What a joke."

* * *

"Then, Tom-san, I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Yeah, no problem. We're done for July, so make sure you come back during late August." Tom Tanaka said, as he rummaged through his bag to search for his car keys. When he located them, he pulled them out and handed the jingling pieces to Shizuo. "Oh, and make sure you call every now and then… your brother or me will do, I think. Just in case something happens."

The blonde blinked, and then glanced cautiously at Izaya, who was about three meters away from the two. He was crouching down near a bent traffic sign, scratching at his nails as he twitched restlessly. His hair was a mess, and he was in a foul mood as the beast had woken up with a bucket of cold water. Shizuo turned his attention back to his boss.

"I'll call, but it won't be through my cell. Probably through the public telephones and stuff… I won't say much, though. I don't think I'd be able to call for long periods of time, since –"

Tom released a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, because records. I get it. Just make sure you're contacting someone somehow. I don't know what you got yourself into, but make sure you stay out of danger."

 _We're kind of jumping voluntarily into that 'danger', but sure._ Grumbling internally, Shizuo nodded. "I will." Then he twisted his body towards Izaya, who was now proceeding to his newfound entertainment of killing ants that were randomly journeying on the cement. "Flea, let's get going."

The informant, still highly irate at the fact that he was soaked to the bone in the morning, glared meaningfully at his mortal enemy – but stood up nevertheless. He was wearing a thin black jacket that Shizuo borrowed from Kasuka, along with the blonde's smallest indigo T-shirt that was still at least two sizes too big for Izaya. His jeans were slightly baggy, and his tousled hair made him appear like a high school delinquent that was skipping out on school.

"Have a safe trip." Tom mumbled, as he placed his right hand on the roof of his car. He wasn't exactly expecting his beloved vehicle to come back in one piece, being left in Shizuo _and_ Izaya's care, but he had some hope remaining. "Remember, it's one month, Shizuo. Back by late August."

Izaya sluggishly forced the seatbelt to go across his shoulders, and let go of it once he heard a secure sound of affirmation. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders aching and his eyes throbbing. It wasn't really because of the sudden panic attack of water he had in the morning, of rather because of the piled stress he suffered for this day. All that exhaustion was taking a toll on his worn out body, when the actual mission hadn't even started. Shizuo was answering Tom's warnings and questions that all seemed like a cacophonous noise to his ears.

Finally, Shizuo inserted the keys and twisted them, as the engine started. Tom was walking back to the building he came from, glancing back occasionally to check if the car had vanished already.

"You alright?" The fortissimo inquired prudently, his eyes focused on getting the car moving.

Izaya murmured groggily, "Could've been better." He was drowsy but not at the very same time – his physical condition was screaming at him to get a decent rest for once before another hell was to begin, but his mind was sending discreet whispers of warning that he couldn't let his guard down, that Goshiki could be anywhere near to a one-meter radius around him, that if Shizuo was gone, he was too.

Suddenly, he felt something tickle the tip of his nose, as something was thrown over his thin figure. A familiar scent filled his body, and sent a relaxing wave of assurance throughout his trembling form. Shizuo had undressed from his thick wool jacket, and tossed it at the raven.

Albeit not disliking the warmth, Izaya withdrew from the warmth as he picked it off from his body. "What are you –" But before he could finish complaining, Shizuo used his right hand to push Izaya down on the seat. Then he paused, and stayed like that for a while. Izaya just kind of awkwardly sat there, Shizuo's hand on his left shoulder.

Then the bodyguard leaned towards him, his heavy frame now practically pressing down on Izaya's legs. "Shizu-chan, are you attempting to sexually molest me?" Izaya leered with distaste, as Shizuo removed his hand from his shoulder.

"No, you fucking idiot." Then his seat was suddenly pushed backward, and the informant had to hold back a surprised yelp at the abrupt movement. Shizuo detached his body from Izaya and reverted to his original position. "Get some sleep. You look sleepy."

On the other hand, the puzzled Orihara tried to process this situation, and what exactly was occurring. Then in realization, he started to laugh. "Shizu-chan, are you by any chance, a _tsundere_ (someone that acts cold and uncaring, but shows their affection in their actions or supposedly harsh words)?"

"A _what?_ " Shizuo snarled, violently starting car as it lunged forward. Izaya's laugh toned down, as he pulled the warm jacket above to his mouth, so that it only covered half of his face.

"Nothing, nothing." He twisted to the side, as he threw his shoes off and cradled his legs on the outstretched seat. The taller man muttered something close to a few cuss words, as he continued to drive through the vacant road.

The red-eyed man then sniffed at the clothing, and opened his mouth. "Shizu-chan, I hate your scent…"

"Likewise." An unfazed grunt arrived in response, as the two men smirked simultaneously, unable to see each other's amused expressions, but both thinking the exact same thing:

 _I'm lying, of course._

* * *

 **A/N: So… yeah. Nowadays, after nearly 3 months of writing** _ **Devil's Pianissimo**_ **(funny, the title seems so unrelated to the story, lol), I was wondering a few things that I wish to hear from you guys:**

 **Is the pacing of the story too slow, or too fast? Or okay? Of course, I don't intend on changing the current pacing of their** _ **relationship,**_ **as stated before, but I was just wondering about the general pace of the story. Certainly, you guys all hold confusions regarding some characters of the story, but that is to be explained later on. But really, how's the story, guys? Just wanted some honest responses.**

 **I'm new to writing multiple-chapter stories like this, as I write more of short stories and one-shots at other times, and I desire to hear some commentary from you guys.**

 **But other than that, thanks for reading!**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	9. But Why does it Hurt This Time?

**A/N: … Please don't kill me.**

 **I swear…ish, that I tried to update ASAP, but then… high school pulled a working toll on me, I had to forcefully participate an MUN conference (for those that don't know, it's basically a group of high schoolers trying to imitate an amateuristic UN conference) for 3 days, only so that my body couldn't take the stress so I suffered from a cold for 5 days, followed by 7 tests and exactly 13 quizzes, 5 projects, and one failing grade. So yeah, it's been tough.**

 **But hey, good news! This is an update!**

 **It seemed like many people were curious about the executives, Izaya's past, such and such, so here is a more Uesugi-kai centric chapter. Maybe you'd find out more about certain relationships of the executives…**

 **Oh, also, did I ever mention, that this story has more than one main pairing?**

* * *

 **The Ninth File:**

" **But Why does it Hurt This Time?"**

" _Izaya, listen to me, alright?"_

 _What is this?_

" _I'll make sure to come fetch you again after a week. It's just a week, so you can handle it, right? Mommy has some meetings she needs to attend to, so you have to wait patiently over here. Got it?" Caring words. But why was it that he could easily interpret her message as-_

 _That she wouldn't be-_

 _Would never-_

 _A warm hand caressed his cheek. His blurred vision showed the scattered image of a woman – a middle-aged woman with fine features and raven hair, the same shade as his…_

 _She had cold eyes…_

 _She wasn't coming back…_

"Flea."

He woke up to a curt call of his rather degrading nickname. His eyelids fluttered open, and he was nearly blinded by the light that seeped in through the windows. His legs felt numb as he tried to move them one by one, and he realized he was lying down on an outstretched car seat.

 _Right…_ Izaya subconsciously threw his arm over his eyes. _We were supposed to be at Yokohama in forty minutes… or something._ "How long was I out?" He groggily asked, not wanting to pull the seat back up to its original position.

"About an hour. We had a traffic jam going on around seven. Was delayed for twenty minutes." They were now temporarily parked next to the sidewalk, as the blonde waited for Izaya's orders. "Well? Where are we going? I don't know anyone in Yokohama, just so you know."

"Neither do I." The chair made a creaking sound when he pulled the lever. "Well, I do, but clients. Other than that, no." Izaya yawned, wincing at the bolt of electricity that zapped through his body, as blood began to circulate through his legs. "Let's go to a motel. One not near by the main roads."

"Not a hotel?" Shizuo inquired, as he scrolled through his phone to look for the list of motels in Yokohama.

The informant shrunk down into his chair as he released a long, hearty sigh. "I wish, but hotels are just too easy to have an information leak. We can't have a hotel burning down just because of some stupid mission."

"Aren't motels just as easy?" Despite how skeptical his words made him sound, Shizuo was already narrowing down the options of motels on his screen as he compared them on the map of Yokohama in his hands.

"I suppose, but hotels in Yokohama are usually the gigantic chains – Tokyo hotel and all that. On the other hand, there are so many motels in Yokohama dispersed around the city that it'd take them some time to track us down, if they were to suspect us to be here, in which –"

"Found it." Shizuo turned the steering wheel and quickly started the engine again. "Ten minutes from here." The other man made small hums of approval and rested his head against the surface of the glassy car window, stealing a glance at the scenery outside. They were driving nearby a port, the opaque, vast blue sea spreading towards the horizon line. "So, what's your plan?"

Izaya sat straight again as swept his bangs to the correct side, in attempt to settle out his hair. "The Uesugi-kai is around seven minutes from this port, past the mall over there and in through the second alley. We're going to see what we can find by following the trade route from here – it's not like we're staying here forever, anyway."

"Right…" The blonde trailed off as he turned to the left. Izaya had suddenly gone very quiet, and he was pretty certain that it wasn't due to his exhaustion or built-up stress. "Something on your mind?" He mustered up the courage to ask, trying not to sound too interested or concerned in particular.

Because the Orihara didn't respond for about a good minute, Shizuo assumed he was either ignored, or unheard. Just when he was about to shrug his shoulders and leave the question in the open air, Izaya spoke up.

"Just thinking." His answer was terse and broad, as if elaboration was too much of a pain. The bodyguard waited if there were more details to come, and very well – some did. "The last time I was in this city in person was when I was fourteen, after all. Many things changed…"

"Well, Yokohama's a developing city."

"I know _that._ " He rolled his eyes, "I'm not blind, Shizu-chan."

"Really? That's a discovery."

"Maybe you're just not observant enough."

In a mere second, the rather heavy mood was quickly warped into their usual altercations – snarky and pretty much meaningless. Not that any of them cared, but it was probably just the disconcerting fact that one, they were supposed to hate each other, which means serious conversations ruined their reputation, and two, both men didn't want to re-experience the odd feelings they had felt previously during similar discussions.

Because, well, this little thing called 'caring' was just too much of a pain in the ass.

Shizuo parked the car around five minutes away from the motel, just to make sure. Izaya complimented him, claiming it was one of the rare moments the beast actually decided to use his brain in an astute way.

"A room for two, please." The informant smiled at the lady who was sitting on her designated desk. Her eyes pranced open in surprise, as the motel hadn't received customers for ages. Quickly fixing her hair, she cleared her throat and dropped her phone on the platform.

Then grabbing some keys from the shelf, she put on her business look. "A room for two, sir?" Eyeing them suspiciously for a few seconds, she tilted her head to the side, and then clapped her hands together in delighted realization. "Are you two a couple?"

 _We're a what?_ Shizuo was about to flare up into sheer anger, until Izaya quickly grasped his hand a little too tightly for his comfort, and pulled his whole body towards him.

"Of course we are! How'd you know?" The raven beamed as he chirped like the sly little crook he was. The blonde threw him an incredulous expression, but Izaya squeezed his hand, as if to tell him that explanations would arrive later. Obviously, an informant would _always_ have their reasons.

"No, no, just the instinct of a woman…" Waving her hand in the air with quite feminine mannerisms, the lady smiled. Shizuo swore, that if this lady weren't the staff at this motel, he would've burned down her apartment several light years ago. "Oh, that's right. How about I give you a discount to the suite room? We don't have any customers today, you see… Well, it's been a while since we even had any." She shrugged sheepishly.

"Would you do that? My, thank you." Izaya flashed a killer smile at her, and at that point the bodyguard swore that the woman was going to faint any minute if Izaya did that one more time.

Grumbling, Shizuo muttered lowly, almost a growl – "Aren't you supposed to fucking be _my_ boyfriend, not hers?" Then just recognizing what he had blurted out, he froze. _Oh, shit._

The shorter male blinked, and then blinked some more. And then finally comprehending the meaning of those words, he burst out laughing into a shattering mess, as he almost tripped and kissed the floor.

 _God, save me._ Shizuo mentally beat himself into a pulp.

"Oh, god… oh, my living god… Wait, that's me, never mind. But oh god…" Izaya shifted his bangs to the side of his forehead, and ran his fingers through his silky black hair. "Jealous, much?" Smirking, he paid the lady as she silently squealed at the adorable new customers. Oh, if she knew.

As they were walking to their suite room, Izaya was still going on about how he never expected Shizuo to actually play along with the act.

"But seriously," The fortissimo frowned, "why did you tell her that we were a fucking couple?"

"Those were the eyes of a otaku girl that ships random men on the street, not a woman." Reminding himself of a certain Karisawa, Heiwajima snorted. "But it'd be better for her to think that we're a couple, just in case we need to make up some excuses for the places we'll be going to."

"Places?"

"Yeah, like bars… clubs…" Izaya was trying to pinpoint each location of the estimated buildings in his mental map. "And what else could I tell her? 'Gee, we're two male friends that have nothing to do, so we decided to come all the way to Yokohama together and be all friendly at a cheap motel', or, 'Hey, I'm a famous information broker in Ikebukuro, and this is my arch nemesis, Heiwajima Shizuo, the strongest man in the region. He is my bodyguard, and if this motel is found out by our enemies, you might die.' Such _terrific_ ideas, Shizu-chan."

"They're _your_ ideas, not mine."

"Like your ideas are any better than mine." The informant spat, as he inserted the key into the lock. It opened with a positive click, and the two bickering men entered, setting their small luggage down on the matted floor. Izaya, who was quite eager to look around the room, trotted towards the balcony, and opened the curtains. "Ah," he smiled, "you earned yourself a bonus, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo, who pretty much had his full attention on unpacking his belongings, shouted from the bathroom: "What?"

Dragging the glass window open, the raven crouched down next to a petite table that was sitting outside the veranda. "It has a good view of the city here. This way, we can carefully scrutinize people's queer behaviors from above."

The fortissimo rolled his eyes, as he changed into a new shirt. "There's always a possibility that your plan will backfire when the enemy looks up on _you_ , flea."

"Well, people are earth-loving creatures, Shizu-chan," Shutting the door and the curtains, Izaya leaned on the wall and slid down smoothly to the floor, like a cascading waterfall. "They hardly ever look upward."

Shizuo didn't say another word as he turned on the television, now fully clothed as he wore his comfy jeans and his Captain America T-shirt, lying on sideways on the bed.

"Hey, Captain, turn on channel seven, would you?" Izaya snickered, as he tore his shirt off from behind, grabbing a new one from his bag.

The blonde grumbled, as he reluctantly pressed a button. "Don't call me captain."

"Yeah, whatever."

It was a peaceful day.

If only, things stayed that way.

* * *

 _Creak…._

Eisuke Kon twisted his neck to his left, and then smiled. "Ah, Kacchan."

A worn out, deep voice grunted from the obscure portion of the office, as a certain figure stepped into the light. "Please refrain from calling me that, Eisuke-san."

"Well, Kacchan is Kacchan. Don't you think so too, Masamune?" Turning his attention to Goshiki, Eisuke's auburn eyes wavered with amusement. "I think it's quite an adorable nickname."

"Drop it, Kon." Running his hand through his slick hair, the said man closed his laptop. "He's not your plaything anymore. He's an executive – you're ought to treat him like one."

"Right, just like how still coo at Izaya-kun, is that it?"

"That shit fucking escaped this place nine years ago. He's a different case from Katsu." Puffing out a cloud of smoke from his mouth, Goshiki fiddled with the black curtains hanging from the ceiling. "Although, he would've been made the head executive long ago if he had remained under my care."

Nejima twitched uncomfortably. "Under your _abusive_ treatment, you mean."

The sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the dimly lit office, as the bookshelf rattled and Eisuke Kon covered half of his face with a novel he was reading, to conceal his frown from further agitation that will ensue towards Goshiki. Nejima stood where he was, expression unchanged, as the wall a few centimeters away from him now possessed a petite hole the size of a bullet.

"Do _not,_ " The scarred man hissed, tossing the gun to the ground, "overstep your boundaries, _Katsu_." Slowly emerging from his seat, he approached the intellectual executive with heavy footsteps. Still, Nejima persisted to be indifferent. "Remember that you're a mere possession – another _thing_ – that the Uesugi-kai purchased."

"What happened to the human rights you were so passionate about earlier?" Eisuke snorted, placing his book on the round table as he walked towards Goshiki.

"Shut the fuck up K-"

"You don't have the right to make me do anything." Pointing the barrel of his own gun to the left temple of Goshiki, Eisuke sneered. "After all, Masamune is such a humanitarian and a proponent for enfranchisement and such the like – he wouldn't do as much to discriminate his own comrades in such a manner, am I wrong?"

Through gritted teeth, said "humanitarian" replied, "Are you picking a fight with me, Kon?"

"What does it look like to you?" Eisuke eyed Nejima, who was just standing there, expressionless. _I sometimes wonder if that boy is contained with a proper soul._ "I'm merely making a cumbersome attempt to provide you with some wise words, Masamune, so…" Tossing his gun towards the stoic executive, the auburn-orbed male smiled at his opponent. "Let's stop this now, shall we?"

Goshiki growled, but nevertheless, lowered his fists and unclenched them. Then throwing a menacing glare at Nejima, he stomped out of the office and snarled a few more curses under his breath.

Once the man was out of earshot, Nejima spoke up. "… Thank you, Eisuke-san."

"You're still quite obstinate when it comes to those petty honorifics, aren't you?" Eisuke smirked in nostalgia, leaning back on the leather sofa. "I don't remember treating you in such a way as Masamune did to Izaya-kun."

Nejima Katsu – a man now in his mid-twenties, no longer the teenager he was years ago with his undeveloped features, grown to be one of the most influential executives in the Uesugi-kai. Some say this was due to the professional provision of Eisuke, who was assigned to care for him during his youth, and some say it was just a polished version of natural talent. Eisuke Kon, however, believed it was neither.

"We're only five years apart, you know." The man continued nonchalantly, as he motioned for the can of beer on the counter next to Nejima. The younger executive handed it to him with tentative mannerisms, in uttermost respect and sensibility. "Kind of hurts when you act so distant."

"… That was not a very entertaining joke, Eisuke-san." Nejima, his hair now reaching the middle of his black, was dyed to a lighter shade of brown from black – resembled a smooth, wooden surface that put Eisuke somewhat at ease. His eyes were a beautiful shade of saturated wood… it was Eisuke's-

 _Now's not the time to speculate over eye colors, Kon._ The senior rolled his eyes, as he re-entered his analytical mentality. _But Masamune is sure keen on reclaiming that Orihara boy, isn't he? Of course, he's such a resourceful being for his age. Izaya-kun… eh…_ Then suddenly, Eisuke Kon's eyes dilated significantly, the executive's lips curling up in realization.

"Kacchan, I need you to do something for me." Sitting upright, Eisuke scrambled up to his feet and rushed to the desk, as if he was reminded of a very important matter.

Raising an inquiring brow, Nejima frowned. "And that is…?"

"Do you remember Orihara Izaya – the brat that escaped from Masamune, nine years ago?" Opening his laptop with a rushed hand motion, Eisuke impatiently waited for the device to begin. "I just remembered something I heard just an hour ago, you see. Can't believe I forgot about it."

Nejima's blue eyes dithered with unknown hesitation, but the man soon nodded. "Of course – he left quite a lasting impression, with the remarkable workload he had to handle. Not to mention the quality in which it was done –"

"Was extraordinary, yes." Eisuke typed away fiercely at the keyboard. "That ability of his becomes troublesome on our part, however, if he's working for another organization. I can't believe I managed to miss such a crucial detail… a man of my caliber, that is… tsk, tsk."

"Crucial detail?"

"A report, Kacchan, a report. Orihara Izaya is currently working for the Awakusu-kai." Eisuke waved the question away dismissively, rapidly clicking away at his laptop.

"Yes, I caught on with that, but…"

"A little slow, aren't we? Well, here are the facts. Fact number one: for the past few weeks, our men had been getting in constant skirmishes with the men of the Awakusu-kai. Fact number two: the Awakusu-kai isn't very fond of the drug trade we conduct on our business line, from Yokohama to Funabashi. Fact number three: however, the Awakusu-kai, being quite preoccupied with handling other pending issues, cannot afford to send their precious manpower to merely put an end to our profitable trade."

Nejima twitched a little at where he was standing. "So, you're suggesting that…"

"Fact number four," Eisuke ignored the light-haired man and pressed 'enter'. "That means Orihara Izaya is currently here in Yokohama, to attend this mission."

* * *

"What do you mean they would've figured it out already?"

"I mean exactly what I meant."

The dawn had broken, and it was now near noon.

"Nejima and Eisuke make a rather sterling combination of people," Izaya was saying, as he cautiously shifted on the mattress. "And Eisuke is surprisingly fast when it comes to information analyzing."

The two men were now awake and alert, as they tried to decide upon where to begin this supposedly secretive inspection. As far as the mission went, their job was to not create further conflict with the Uesugi-kai, and simply handle the mission as they were ordered.

Shizuo popped a potato chip into his mouth. "Well," he grunted, "that makes everything a hundred times better."

Izaya didn't respond to the sarcastic commentary the blonde was making to nearly every single point of information that was being told. Instead, his mind wandered off to the dream he had the other day. An ancient dream he had buried so carefully in the pits of his memories, that was forcefully disclosed to his vision once more…

 _I knew she wasn't going to come back._ The raven closed his eyes. _I always knew that she wasn't going to come back. I wasn't worth anything to her at that point, anyway._ He fondled with the satin sheets beneath him, the snappy words of Shizuo beside him being muted out as he sank again into that same abyss, that exact same darkness that corrupted him nine years ago…

 _Mother…_

 _Do you despise her?_

 _No, I don't._

 _Why not?_

 _Because I already knew, of course. I already knew, a very long time ago…_

"Izaya, you with me?"

Shizuo was sitting in front of him, a scowl on his face. Izaya didn't realize or notice when he had transferred to his bed, but the beast was seated in a cross-legged position. "You seem pretty out of it today."

 _He's going to leave me, too._ Izaya pursed his lips together. Something within his heart ached – the pain resonated through his body. "Shizu-chan." His voice came out as a whisper, although he had intended to speak with more volume. "Do you know when you get to see the true face of a human being?"

 _Where's this coming from?_ Shizuo raised a questioning brow. "What, you're feeling sentimental now?" But then he paused, and shrugged. "I don't know."

"It's when you no longer have any worth to them." A bitter aftertaste was left in his mouth. A foul, disgusting sensation tingled on his tongue. He loved humans. He loved them, he really did…

 _Or do you?_

"After this affair is done and over with… we no longer have much value to one another, do we?" Izaya's stomach seemed to quench and churn – he felt sick. He felt so utterly sick, but he didn't know why.

What made it worse was Shizuo's response.

"Of course."

 _I knew that already._

 _I knew it, just like how it was then…_

 _But why does it hurt this time?_

* * *

 **A/N: I don't know how guys felt about this chapter, but to be honest, I think it's my least favorite of the ones I wrote so far. Maybe because it just forced me to write about something much more… emotional? I don't know, Izaya and emotional are two words that don't match, and I just had a difficult time writing this chapter.**

 **But god, thank you once again for being so patient with me, and all your supportive reviews regarding this story!**

 **I hope the next chapter will be better (for me). It's great if you guys liked it though.**

 **Until next time!**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	10. One Fucking Job

**A/N: Hi guys, thank you as always for your exemplary support and inspirational reviews!**

 **I felt really grateful about all the positive feedback regarding the interaction of the executives of the Uesugi-kai. To be honest, I absolutely despise OCs – OCs that are used as antagonists, especially to say – that have no depth to their character. I struggle with that problem personally as I write and create characters, and I really wanted to avoid doing that with the members of the Uesugi-kai. They aren't mere shallow "bad guys", so I'd greatly appreciate it if you just carefully look over their character progression!**

 **But anyway, that was really long. Please enjoy this chapter as well!**

 **P.S. – THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE 100+ REVIEWS!**

* * *

 **The Tenth File:**

" **Everyone in this fucking world has one fucking job."**

The more Shizuo contemplated on the particular issue, the more puzzled he became. He couldn't quite understand the reason of…

Well, before that – he probably had to explain this whole "issue" that kept on lingering on every corner of his mind.

This was around eight years ago – when Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya had first encountered. It was through the introduction of Kishitani Shinra, both males' well-acquainted friend. The exact moment Izaya flashed that unbalanced smile that somewhat made his stomach churn, something in Shizuo's head clicked –

" _You piss me off."_

He didn't know why, to be honest. At that point in time, he hadn't been given any information prior about the raven, and he never recalled meeting him elsewhere that would've caused him to feel such irrational discomfort. But he did. Orihara Izaya did it. _Well –_ Shinra had warned him beforehand that he was a… unique, difficult individual, but not a bad guy (which was proved wrong among several accounts of his life).

Of course, after that, he could list off gazillions of reasons why he hated Orihara Izaya. But during their initial confront – _did he ever have a reason to hate him?_

 _Was that even hatred?_

 _What was that gutter feeling in my system? Why did my fists clench when his piercing red eyes met mine? Why did I feel so angry? Was that anger even directed at him?_

 _Who was I exactly so infuriated at?_

There were too many unanswered questions – and it had been eight years since. But it wasn't much of a surprise – Shizuo desired to neglect that topic for ages, and for an understandable cause. He couldn't find a logical explanation as to why he had to exert such unnecessary amount of energy just for the sake of analyzing his emotions – emotions towards _Izaya_ , that is.

It seriously wasn't worth his time.

 _Orihara Izaya_ wasn't worth his time.

So naturally, when Izaya asked him:

"After this affair is done and over with… we no longer have much value to one another, do we?"

He replied with a terse "of course". An anonymous look flashed past Izaya's eyes, as he clutched the sheets beneath him. And a heavy weight was placed on Shizuo's chest, weighing down in agonizing pain as he witnessed that look – was it- _regret?_ Did he truly mean what he said? Or was that just out of instinct?

He really, really, _didn't know_.

"Why would you ask such a fucking stupid question?" His voice slightly shaky, the blonde grumbled.

"It was a trivial question. Out of the mood." _He's avoiding me._ Shizuo noticed, as Izaya evaded his curious gaze. "Anyway, Shizu-chan. Let's get out of here." Throwing the cushion he was clutching on to the side of the room, the informant grabbed his toothbrush and began to cleanse his face.

"Get out of here?" Lying back down on Izaya's bed, Shizuo closed his eyes. The Orihara's distinct scent was floating in the atmosphere, leaving transparent paint on the blankets, the pillows, and every inch where he was present. The blonde had always labeled the smell as an abomination – something tolerate at any cost. But now, he was enwrapped in the aroma itself, trying to make out each hinted element that created the mixture.

 _Mint… and coffee beans? Like a nice roast…_ He inhaled the air once more, until he finally rose from the bed.

Izaya spoke in muffled syllables. "Well, you know, Shizu-chan," A gurgling noise erupted from the bathroom, as the raven spat into the sink. "You can't exactly accomplish a tracking mission by lying around in a hotel room."

"You actually can, factually."

"Well, not with our budget. Don't try to outsmart me, you dumbass."

Shizuo shrugged, as he joined Izaya in the bathroom. He cleared his mind, as he looked into the mirror. It was just an idiotic emotion – a needless thought. He had to remind himself over and over again – that this was strictly within the boundaries of a lucrative contract on his part, and a golden opportunity for Izaya to accomplish his mission.

But somehow, that determined conclusion didn't improve his mood in the slightest.

"Shizu-chan, are you going to be brushing your teeth until the next century?" Izaya smirked, snapping his fingers tauntingly at the blonde. "Not that I mind, but it's not really my fault if your payment is cut short."

Shizuo gritted his teeth, the aromatic scent that lingered on his nose just a few seconds ago being rendered into a plain mush of rubbish. Placing his toothbrush back in the cup (more like smashing it into the cup), he changed back into a white T-shirt and jeans. It felt odd without his bartender outfit, but he couldn't risk the possibility of being caught due to such eccentricities.

"So, where are we going?" The blonde asked, locking the door.

"A bar nearby. It's where the Uesugi-kai regularly conducts their daily trade." Izaya sniffed, walking down the corridor. "It'll be difficult to infiltrate the exchange, as it is limited to private managers… and some unnamed others."

Snorting, Shizuo shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why am I even here again?"

"To _observe._ Not _obstruct._ "

"Fair enough."

As they got back on the car, both males rode for a while in silence. It wasn't like the bar was ridiculously far away or anything – it was just that they were stuck in traffic, and had nothing to talk about.

"… Hey." The fortissimo mumbled, as he leaned back on the car seat. He didn't wait for a response from Izaya, or even any kind of reaction – he just continued talking. "Do you remember high school?"

"Are you trying to imply that my memory is so terrible that you need to _question_ my ability to recall a time period that was merely eight years ago?"

Sweeping his bangs to the other side, Shizuo heaved a throaty breath. "No." _He always interprets my questions as some kind of sardonic statement, doesn't he?_

Izaya released a small 'hmph' as he averted his gaze to the adjacent window. "I do remember, of course." He paused, and then added – "It was hell."

"Likewise." Mumbled the other, intending for the reply to come out as a growl, but for some reason not finding the capability to do so. "I despised you the moment we made eye contact."

"I despised you the moment Shinra even decided to say your _name_."

Lightly tapping the steering wheel, Shizuo stared at the vertical line of cars ahead of them. "… I wonder why."

"Stop sounding so emotional. It's gross. Not to mention, out of character." The informant made a face, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

"I'm just curious." Now this time, Shizuo growled. "I couldn't find a legitimate, acceptable reason why I felt that way back then."

Izaya's displeased face was now replaced with an empty, stoic expression. He slowly closed his eyes, and shifted his head to the side, refusing to meet Shizuo's intimidating, yet inquisitive stare. Shizuo didn't utter another word, stepping on the axel as the car moved forward. He couldn't read Izaya's mind.

That's all he wanted to do, right at that moment.

"… too." Finally, the raven spoke up, his voice low and barely audible.

"What?"

"I don't know too."

Shizuo's grip on the wheel tightened. An unknown sensation pooled up at the bottom of his chest, squeezing his insides desperately. Was this anticipation? _It can't be._ He lowered his foot on the brake to slow the car, exhaling unsteadily as he tried to reject this emotion. "Don't know what?"

"Why I hate you."

 _Present tense… huh._ The invisible hand within his body punched his heart, making his nerves tingle and twitch painfully. _That kind of…_ "… Oh." He couldn't look at Izaya. If he did, he had a strong certainty that he would do something – _something utterly stupid_ – out of pure impulse. So instead, he pressed his forehead against the warm steering wheel, his bush of blonde hair sticking out in the corner of Izaya's eye. He left his sunglasses in the motel room, so there was nothing to conceal any kind of expression he was displaying. _That seriously kind of…_ his nails scratched the leather surface of the object, as the hint of mint and coffee tickled his nose. _… Hurts._

Unimpressed at Shizuo's mild reaction, Izaya turned to see what the blonde was doing. He felt his heart drop to his diaphragm when he saw the Heiwajima leaning down, looking pale as a sheet. "Shizu-chan?" Instinctively reaching his hand out to touch the other, Izaya stopped himself midair and retaliated. "What's wrong?"

 _I'm supposed to hate him._ Said beast dug his nails deeper into the cover. He had to subconsciously remind himself that this wasn't his car, but Tom's. _I'm supposed to hate him._ "Nothing." He scrambled upright, properly sitting on the car seat as he moved the car forward. He glanced at Izaya, who had reverted to his contemplative staring outside the window, slouched against the hard cushion. Shizuo switched his attention back to the front view, and scratched the steering wheel one last time.

 _I wonder if he realized that I used past tense in all my statements._ By the looks of the informant, it seemed obvious that he could care less.

 _I was supposed to hate him._

* * *

"Kon. Where are you going?"

"It's my rotation for today."

"Thought it was Katsu."

"He's busy."

Goshiki folded his arms, as he remained motionless, lying down on their long couch, the lights dim and curtains closed. "Kon, you're hiding something."

The accused executive smirked, as he swung his bag over his shoulders. "Based on what underlying proof?"

"Nothing of that shit. I know you. If I need more than circumstantial evidence to prove myself, you're definitely hiding something." Crossing one leg over the other, Goshiki glared at the ceiling, as he heard the soft rustles of Eisuke's minimal movements. "Kon."

Snapping the lock on his suitcase, Eisuke's auburn orbs flickered. "Don't pry, Masamune." His voice was gentle, but had an abrasive edge to it. "I don't remember possessing much of a personal relationship with you."

"I don't remember you hiding anything personal from me, either." The scarred man retorted, as he gradually rose from the comfy furniture. "You only ever hid matters that _I_ was personally involved with."

"So what if I am?" Eisuke clucked his tongue – time really showed evident results and changes – such as one observant man, and a disclosed characteristic. "Are you scared – scared that it's about your precious little bird?" His collar was snatched violently, his suitcase clattering on the floor as Goshiki glowered at him. _Time definitely shows formidable results._ "Scared that I'll get him before you do, Masamune?"

Goshiki's fist clenched the cloth that was now stretching a little, as Eisuke twisted the other's wrist with a swift crack. Masamune grunted, his arm limp as he persisted to glare venomously at the latter. "Don't test me, Kon."

"I'll say the exact same thing right back at you, Masamune." His handsome face tainted with poison, Eisuke smiled – it was a cold smile. "You're still a piece of shit to me, whatever justification you might provide to convince me otherwise."

Goshiki hollered in frustration, "Why do _you_ want Izaya?"

"I _don't_ want him. In fact, I want absolutely nothing to do with the likes of that boy." Eisuke turned on his heel, and closed the heavy metal door behind his lean figure. He groaned, straightening his collar as he dusted off the breadcrumbs on his suitcase.

"If it weren't for _him_ …"

* * *

"This is the epitome of cacophony."

"It's called a _bar._ "

"More like war."

Orihara Izaya rolled his eyes in exasperation as he chugged his glass of Margarita down his throat. They were waiting for the correct timing to sneak into the private meeting area, which was heavily guarded by a few infamous dealers and sensors. Their plan was to sit around and observe the entrance to first see the people that seemed to have permission to enter, and those that were beheld to stay outside. Then as midnight approached and the crowd significantly increases, they'll camouflage into the swarm of people and defeat the guards and disable the sensors. They were at an advantage in sense – having your base connected to a bar like this might help conceal the true motive of your organization; but as this was also a public building, emergency alarms couldn't go off secretly without someone noticing in the process.

Simply to say, it was easy for a small amount of people to penetrate their line of defense – especially when you have a very inhuman-like being by your side.

Shizuo was sipping a glass of Kahlua milk, savoring the temperate sweetness of the beverage. "How long do we need to wait?"

"Just forty more minutes or so." Ordering another cocktail, Izaya grabbed some peanuts from the side of the table and munched away at the savory snack. "But seriously, Kahlua milk? Are you a girl or what?"

"I can't handle liquor and bitter things, alright? Got a fucking problem with that?" Snarled Shizuo, over some random Korean pop music that was blasting in the background. Izaya snorted, his crimson eyes skeptical as the bartender gave him a Jack Rose.

"Now you're lying. I've physically seen you in person, back at Russian Sushi, chugging that whole bottle of Heineken down your throat."

"And you probably haven't seen the consequences of what happened _afterward_." The grumpy man barked, despite drinking his seventh glass of Kahlua milk. "I easily lose my cool when I have alcohol in my system. I almost killed Shinra when…" He bit the inside of his cheek, the broken memories of that day slowly coming back to him. _When he showed me a picture of you._ "Nothing." He finished, the last gulp of his drink slipping down his throat. He ordered the eighth one.

Izaya shook his head contemptuously, as he fiddled with the leg of the glass he was holding in his grasp. "In case your idiotic protozoan brain can't process logical sense, no matter how low the ABV value is in Kahlua milk, that's still your eighth."

Shizuo ignored the latter, used to his witty comments and sarcastic tones. _I feel like crap._ He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as reached for a cigarette inside his pocket.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom." Izaya stood up, massaging his temples. "I think I drank too much." Covering his mouth, the slender man paled as he let out a muted growl. The blonde mumbled a muffled 'yeah' as the informant dragged himself to the bathroom nearby, leaving Shizuo alone.

 _Thought he said he was a strong drinker or something._ Blowing a puff of smoke out of his mouth, Shizuo put the lighter back on the counter where he got it. "Bull shit…" _He seemed pretty out of it._ He noted, throwing his arm over his face, covering his abused eyes. _He isn't the type to drink out of control._ Izaya was a shrewd individual, more so than Shizuo – he wasn't an idiot to knock himself out during a mission with some booze. But he definitely wasn't faking that just now – he knew Izaya long enough to realize that much.

Something was wrong.

He pursed his lips against the cigarette in his mouth, the bitter tang of nicotine on his tongue. A surge of panic wavered beneath his feet, as his mind automatically cancelled out all the noise around him, swallowing the Heiwajima into an abyss of nothingness.

 _Something is not right._

He finished his final glass of Kahlua milk and stormed towards the bathroom. He desperately hoped it was just him and his stupid instinct. Izaya was capable of comporting himself all the time, during those tantalizing eight years of his adolescent young adult career.

His hand on the brazen doorknob, Shizuo twisted it – it was locked.

 _Shitshitshit-_

A warning buzz jolted through his body, as he kicked the door down with a considerable amount of force. The customers around him passed on fearful looks, but Shizuo could care less.

"Flea-"

His stomach quenched as he gripped the hem of his shirt.

There was a pool of crimson splattered on the floor.

But there was no trace of Izaya.

* * *

 _I've never felt so fucking injudicious in my whole life._ Leaning forward on the aligned sinks, Izaya washed his face and moaned, something unpleasant creeping up his throat. "This is all that goddamned Shizu-chan's fault…" _Why the hell is he even acting so considerate today, out of all days… and why do I even care?_

"Who's this 'Shizu-chan'?"

A voice slithered behind him – a very familiar voice-

"… Eisuke Kon." Izaya spat, his head ringing dangerously as his pulse rapidly increased. "What're you doing here… I guess that'd be a redundant question." His lips curled up a little, as his hand slipped down to his pockets, where his switchblade was.

"Oh, no you don't."

The informant's eyes widened as Eisuke took a large step forward, slamming his figure towards the wall as Izaya's back came in contact with one of soap dispensers attached to it. Normally, he would've avoided that – but his body seemed to be disobeying his brain's orders-

"I know you too well," His gloved fingers shoving down the place where his switchblade was, Eisuke easily seized the weapon and pressed the blade against Izaya's throat. "I've watched how Masamune trained you, after all." The shorter male scowled at the mention of his formed superior. Eisuke released a hearty laugh, as he placed his knee on top of Izaya's ribs. "So, who's this Shizu-chan? Your boyfriend?"

"As if." He coughed out – he felt like vomiting. He needed to find a quick, smart way to escape this situation-

Eisuke Kon, not satisfied with the answer, swiftly pushed the switchblade down Izaya's thigh, as blood spurted all over the place, Izaya's face twisting in pain. "I'm not going to kill you." The executive mumbled, "but that doesn't mean you're going unharmed, Izaya-kun." Landing a punch in the middle of the wounded male's stomach, Eisuke made sure the informant was somewhat conscious, and hurled him over his shoulder.

 _Fuck myself…_ Izaya gritted his teeth, as his body went limp – before his vision eventually was just black.

* * *

"Is that piece of shit an idiot or a fucking –" Shizuo howled as he staggered down the stairs. He couldn't even bother to go unnoticed and crap – he just ripped through the guards in front of the door, and smashed the entrance into three pieces as its pitiful form fell on the wet ground.

He was seeing red. He was absolutely certain that this wasn't healthy. He should've stopped Izaya when he was drinking his second- no, he should've just stopped him from drinking in the first place at all. _I should've never assumed that…_ He was certain that the Uesugi-kai would never make the move before they did. _Fuck._ Rage. Unconfined rage simmered from the surface of his skin, driving him insane. He couldn't think. He refused to be a tranquil piece of trash.

 _I'm going to kill them._ He seethed, grinding his teeth against the musty air, as his scream tore through the atmosphere. _I don't fucking care who they are – I'm going to kill them._

 _Tap…_

He abruptly stopped himself amidst his path, snapping his head in the direction of the sound that echoed through the eerie tunnel. He never scrutinized his surroundings before – but this place was almost like a maze – dark, moist, and paralyzing. He clenched his fists, as his saturated clothing stuck close to his skin.

Sniffing the air, Shizuo closed his eyes.

Blood.

Alcohol.

Mint.

Coffee.

 _Orihara Izaya._

At first, his footsteps were slow. Then he walked faster, and faster, and faster, and faster, and faster-

 _Izaya. Izaya. Izaya. Flea. Louse. Idiot. Izaya. Izaya. Izaya. Izaya._

 _Orihara Izaya._

 _Give him back._

 _He's –_

"Are you the 'Shizu-chan'?" A leering echo interrupted his train of thoughts. Shizuo didn't care who this person was. But instead, his eyes were immediately fixated on a weak, hanging figure that was unconscious on the man's shoulders –

Izaya.

"Just a quick question." He had to scrape all the remaining pieces of his sanity to even form one simple sentence. Izaya was covered in blood. Izaya was not okay. And Heiwajima Shizuo was _not_ okay with that. "Are you the one who made him like that?"

The man took a while to answer. He seemed to be enjoying the fucking situation, and how tense Shizuo was. Depending on his response, he was going to regret that momentary silence – and everything that he did.

"Yes."

Izaya.

Hurt.

 _Orihara Izaya._

 _Hurt._

 _Covered in blood._

 _This fucker._

 _Hurt._

 _Izaya._

"Everyone in this fucking world has one fucking job." Shizuo's face darkened, his aura murderous as he moved towards Eisuke, who was quite confused about what was going on. "You, failed to accomplish that."

"And that job is…?"

"To _never, ever,_ " The blonde's volume increased –

" _Touch Orihara Izaya._ "

The world went red.

* * *

 **A/N: … Well, that escalated quickly.**

 **I'd be happy to read reviews, guys! (Lol)**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	11. You have no Idea

**A/N: … Well, before I do anything…**

 **I'M SO SORRY GUYS FOR THIS ULTRA-MEGA-DELAYED UPDATE! I was working on this chapter for ages now, and when I was halfway through, my laptop just shut down and** _ **DIDN'T SAVE THE DAMNED FILE.**_ **Ahem. At that time my exams were starting in a week, so I decided to postpone the day of the update and focus on my studies. And now, my final exams are done! So anyway, I'm incredibly grateful to all of you guys that waited so patiently for this new chapter.**

 **P.S. – I know this has been a continuation of quite emotional chapters with characters behaving unusually, and this one isn't any different. So… yeah.**

* * *

 **The Eleventh File:**

" **You have no idea."**

 _That was so dumb._

Shizuo took out a cigarette from his pocket. The flushed dawn was supposedly, well, mesmerizing, but the blonde couldn't seem to appreciate it due to the events from the previous night. _I wasn't even sane. I mean, it's not like that happens at a rare occasion, but that was just… fucking dumb._

Of course, if someone asked him what exactly was so dumb, Shizuo wouldn't be able to place his finger on the accurate response. Because as to say – this whole situation itself could be defined as preposterous, insane, and just utterly, ever so regretfully stupid.

"I just finished treating his wounds." Shinra exited the room, with a neatly organized folder in his hand. "It wasn't serious, so there's nothing for you to fret over."

"I didn't fret."

"Your hair was drenched in his blood, you weren't wearing your shoes, your pants were covered in mud, and the first thing you did was to beg me to save him. I honestly have so many things I want to say, but you are contradicting your claim, Shizuo." Shinra pointed out, as he sipped his steaming hot cup of coffee. "I'd never knew there would come a day where you'd be on the ground groveling for _his_ medical treatment. I mean, I would've done it anyway, you know that right?"

The blonde sucked in a bitter breath, desperately wishing to turn back time. "Shut the fuck up, Shinra."

But the doctor being a helpless, hereditary Kishitani, he persisted. "Shizuo, you don't hate him, do you?"

"Shinra, I swear –"

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry – it's just…" Kishitani Shinra is not an emotional, sympathy-empathy-based human being. This situation wasn't any different. "It's frustrating – utterly agitating, to be honest. And as a rare someone that called me, that just happens to be both your former colleague and best friend, this whole fight of seven years seems like a joke, Shizuo."

Shizuo frowned, his eyebrows twitching in annoyance. His seven years of throwing vending machines at that imbecile – a _joke_? He wasn't so certain about his feelings anymore, but the anger that used to loom within his heart was nothing close to a 'joke'. "Shinra, I hated him. _Despised_ him. That was nothing like a joke." He was aware of his usage of past tense, and he was pretty sure that Shinra caught it as well.

"For you, maybe." The doctor grunted, scratching his hair. "No, screw that. I know he was the closest description of an abomination you found in your life. There's substantial evidence for that statement- I'm off track. But anyway, yes, let's say you hated him. I'm just saying, that only applied for you, Shizuo."

Now the bodyguard was just befuddled. Izaya never liked him either. The feeling was mutual – hatred always flows stronger than love, and that's how they were. That's how they… _are_. "What?" He gulped, his two fingers that held his almost nonexistent cigarette in place tightening its hold.

"I mean, sure, he _grew_ to abhor you. He earned it, but still. The emotion wasn't identical at first, and I just… I'm sure it could've gone better between you two, only if it weren't for Izaya's crappy personality that crashed with your hot temper." Shinra paused after he said that. "Well, you two are practically nothing but a shell without those two elements. But I can promise you that Izaya didn't hate you when he first met you."

Shizuo wanted to snort, laugh, shrug it off, or just do _something_ – but he couldn't. He didn't want this topic to warp into something… humorous. Not anymore, at least. "… What did he feel towards me, then?"

"Hm… let's see…" Shinra tipped his head to the side, savoring the soft midnight breeze. "It wasn't… he didn't 'like' you. Not in my perspective, at least. Yes, that was closer to…"

" _What do you think of Shizuo, Izaya?"_

" _Hm? Ah, that runt. Yes, he's… I think he's certainly… new."_

" _New?"_

"… It was trust, I think."

That resulted an immediate explosive laugh from Shizuo, who keeled over and just laughed, laughed, laughed. Celty poked her helmet out from inside the house, checking to see if everything was alright. Shinra waited for his friend to calm down, just staring at the night view of this city.

"There's no way that's how he felt." When his laughter had seized, his voice came out cracked, quiet, and with a bitter border. _Because that's not how it should be. This isn't how it should be. We were never meant to be like… like this._ "There's no way…" _He wasn't supposed to be so hurt, so torn up like that._

The underground doctor didn't say anything for a while. For what cause, nobody knew. But when a few good seconds passed by, Shinra opened his mouth once again. "That was just an assumption, of course. I didn't major in psychology – in fact, I'm quite terrible at reading humans. If Izaya even counts as one, other than biologically, that is. And that's rather fine." He paused, but continued, "What I'm truly concerned about is how you currently feel about Izaya, Shizuo."

"I hate him."

"You don't."

"I thought you weren't a psychology major."

"We're not strangers, Shizuo. I can at least tell what's different about you compared to a month ago."

He wanted to cease this nonsense. He didn't want to center his attention towards Izaya. It hurt, he was hurt – and he didn't know why. "… I don't know what to do." He released a jittery sigh, shaking. "I was supposed to despise him, Shinra. He was supposed to be the reason why my life used to be so utterly _miserable_."

"But what's so complicated? Why are you so focused on trapping Izaya inside a label?"

 _You just needed someone to hate._

"That's because…"

 _You just needed someone to be more-_

"… Because I'm weak, probably." Shizuo whispered, foreign voices in his head ringing words – words he desired to forget so much, efface from his mind – blaring cacophony, an utter jumble of disharmonic noises-

"Forget that I asked that." A sharp clap of hands snapped the blonde out of his haze. Shinra beamed, very softly. "I don't think I should be the one to hear your explanation first, anyway."

Before the beast could retort, Celty appeared behind them, holding up her PDA.

 _ **[Izaya's awake.]**_

She paused, and typed once more.

 _ **[He said he wants to talk to you, Shizuo.]**_

 _He said he wants to talk to you._ Shizuo solemnly repeated that message in his head. Anger and irritation bubbled up from the surface of his chest, as he gritted the emotions down with his teeth. It wasn't towards Izaya. The anger, the frustration, the rough bitterness, it wasn't towards Izaya. At all.

"Alright." He murmured, pushing the doctor out of his path and advancing towards his destination with heavy footsteps. He could vaguely remember what he shouted out of that moment of insanity towards the attacker of Izaya – and how utterly livid he was when he saw that bloodied body. Scared – he was so, frighteningly afraid that he had lost the man. Because despite his godlike exterior and act, Orihara Izaya was just a human being, just like anyone else. Death isn't an exception for him, just like it isn't for Shizuo.

He almost lost him, right that second.

The man he-

 _The person I…_ he couldn't manage to continue. He braced himself as he placed his fingers on the brazen doorknob, the tip of his skin trembling uncontrollably as he wrapped his sweaty palm around the cooled metal. _He's the person I…_ Inhaling a stale breath, he opened the door.

And Izaya was there.

He was lying on the bed, some small bruises dotting his face, with bandages wrapped around his arms and legs, changed into fresh clothing that no longer held the stench of that crimson blood. That terrifying color of red.

The raven smiled a little. "… You look like crap, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo then finally stared at his reflection in the window. Izaya's wasn't wrong. He did look like crap. His blonde hair looked sickly brown, sticky and tangled, with dried blood staining the edges. He had huge bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep for years, and his cheeks were slightly sunken. "Yeah, I guess."

It was then, that the informant's smile vanished. His lips twitched to the side, as he furrowed his brows. "That's not like you." Shizuo sent him a bewildered expression, and Izaya sat up a little straighter on the bed. "… You've changed. You used to be snappier. Angrier. Hateful. A monster." The male gripped his sheets, sucking in a sharp breath. "I… don't understand."

"It's not like you haven't changed at all." He pulled out a stool and slumped down on it, facing Izaya. "I was supposed to fucking hate you, flea."

"I know. You did hate me."

"I did."

Izaya wasn't looking at Shizuo. "I didn't." The gruff male looked up, his view meeting Izaya's silky black hair that shone under the distant crescent moon. From that injured back, he could encounter a glimpse of the Orihara Izaya he desired to disregard for so long. The human that also held the same pain he had. Just another human like he was.

"You didn't like me, either." The blonde muttered in a somewhat hesitant tone. He was trying to act like normal – how he always behaved around Izaya. _I can't remember._ Subconsciously running helpless fingers through his drenched hair, Shizuo sighed. "I don't even fucking get it anymore."

Awkward, stiff silence hung in the air. Both males didn't know what to do – and it wasn't like that was particularly new. But this kind of silence was different – the atmosphere, the background, their feelings, it was mangled up in a muddle of trash, both of them losing their cool and forgetting how to comprehend. The raven gradually shifted his posture to gaze at the fortissimo.

For the first time, Shizuo saw a lost Izaya.

"… Shizu-chan." The latter began to speak, and Shizuo's chest quenched. He wanted to deny this emotion. How his attention was so, so, concentrated on his nemesis-in-name that he wished to abhor, how his pulse was racing, ready to rise or drop according to a single word or action from the informant. "You don't hate me."

He knew that already. _I know it._ His head was lowered, but he could still feel Izaya's piercing yet agonizingly gentle look on his shivering stature. _Admit it. You never wanted to hate him. It didn't have to be him._ All he wanted to do before was to find someone to hate. _Because otherwise, I'd feel utterly desolate. Useless. A monster._ All he wanted to do was just pick on a random person that had shitty qualities – just like him.

 _I never really hated him._

 _I just always needed a reason to hate someone._

Now, all he needed was Orihara Izaya to be there. To be safe, and alive. It was almost comical, how he felt so empty inside when he momentarily drew a life without the other. The man he always aspired to kill, was now a person he found essential just to continue breathing in peace.

When he raised his head again once more, Izaya was still there, sitting on his bed, futon slightly covering his thin legs and bandages slipping down from his maroon scars. His pale complexion held a certain unexplainable fascination to it – an exquisite harmony of his red eyes, unmarred skin, and a hint of inhumaneness.

 _Goddamn,_ Shizuo could only relinquish a childish smirk. _He's too fucking beautiful to be human._

Thoughts he never would've admitted before. Features and characteristics he never would've realized before.

Sprouting love that hasn't been in existence until now.

He inched closer to Izaya, his hand sluggishly shifting towards Izaya's. Their skin touched – the raven's was chilled, cold. "Yeah." Shizuo mumbled, tracing arbitrary shapes on Izaya's palm. "I don't hate you."

A snort echoed through the room, and the Heiwajima snapped his head towards Izaya's curled up face. "What, so you've finally fallen for my irresistible charm, Shizu-chan?" He didn't pull his hand away from Shizuo's touch.

"What if I have?" Gripping the thinner male's wrist, the blonde pushed himself further towards Izaya, so that their faces were barely a few centimeters apart. He then saw the male's red orbs waver, his teeth clenched and jaw squared. _It's that face again._ Shizuo contemplated to himself, _he's hiding something again._ He eventually pulled away, and stood up.

"Just saying," He adjusted his clothing. "We're still business partners. I'm still going to get paid, and this contract isn't over until your mission is complete and well over with." _No matter how you feel about me,_ "That's not going to change."

Izaya clucked his tongue. "You sure? I'm not even going to let you chicken away in the middle of a massacre, just a fair heads up."

"Yeah, and my job will be to make sure that you don't fucking get some bullets through your head during those scenarios. By your definition, I'm a monster anyway," _If that's really what you want me to be,_ "So I might as well prove your point." _Then you're going to get it._

 _I probably love him. But a part of me is still conflicted about this, and I know it. I want to love him, but at the same I don't._ The blonde stole one final glance at the raven that was just facing his direction, appearing to be somewhat stunned by his deadly rival's sudden transformation. But his lips, that had created a thin, pursed line before, twisted upward in a wicked, but exhausted grin.

"I'd love to see you try."

* * *

"I really don't get your relationship with Izaya, to be honest."

"… Mm."

It was now five in the morning, Izaya had fallen back to his dreamland, and Celty left her husband to converse with his colleague again. The two friends were seated across each other on a wooden dining table, still in the Kishitani residence. Shizuo just really wanted to drop the topic and question and go home, but his fellow doctor seemed to have other plans ahead.

"So you're saying, that you're in love with Izaya." His pinky finger tapping along a random tune, Shinra sipped his cup of black coffee. The former delinquent believed that his whole branch of emotions weren't as simple as to just deduce it into a form of affection, namely 'love', but it was omnipresent within this particular situation, so he dismissed the issue mentally. "But at the same time, you hold remnants of abhorrence."

"Abhorrence… is a strong word." Shizuo grunted, albeit the fact that it was somewhat true a few months ago. "It's more like… a personal breakdown. Like not wanting to accept that some really shitty character was actually some good ass, or… you know. I'm just uncertain how to feel towards him."

Shinra nodded, getting a clearer image of Shizuo's circumstance. "I understand. Well, I'm not against this affair. In fact, I'm quite a solid supporter. What concerns me is the complication that will inevitably occur from your complication of emotions. You dislike him, but you love him. I can't assume Izaya's perspective of you, but you'll need to cut clean – as in, decide how you honestly feel about him. Or else, this isn't going to anywhere."

"I fucking _know_ that." _I'm not that stupid, for Christ's sake._ "I have many unanswered questions I want to ask him. Like, about his past, his affiliation with that yakuza organization he works with, and the other one… I think that'd help me reach my decision."

Rubbing his chin, Shinra tilted his head to the left in an odd angle. "His past… There are a few points that I can mention about his past. One's for sure – Izaya was 'adopted' by the Awakusu-kai. More like he was accepted as a member, but unofficially. I'm pretty certain that his tuition during college and high school were all paid through the organization, until he was self-sufficient enough to live independently. Izaya told me in class, during some time, that he ran away from his previous… home. He didn't really use that exact wording, but it was something along the lines of that.

"What I find suspicious is his actual origins. He never brought up the information about his family, which, considering Izaya's personality, is not wholly unusual, but he avoids the matter. He intentionally switches the topic and ignores the questions at hand." Shinra shrugged, taking another sip of his bitter beverage, "Of course, I did a background check on his family, me being an inquisitive high school student. I think Izaya still doesn't know till this day."

"What, was he abandoned or something?" Shizuo made a disgruntled face, as the other male shook his head.

"I'm not entirely sure about that one. It'd make sense, because his mother is now remarried to a new man, with two daughters. Izaya, undoubtedly knows this – he's an informant, so he can research those things right away with no problem – but so far, as much as my knowledge extends, he hasn't done much about it. I didn't want to pry much more into his privacy anyway, so I stopped. That's all I can provide you with now, though."

The blonde passed on a thankful nod, and rose from the chair.

"Thanks. I'll do something with the rest myself."

* * *

"… Kacchan."

"Eisuke- what the fuck?"

"Great, if you have time to cuss, I think you have enough time to assist me in treating my wounds."

Eisuke Kon was a complete mess – he looked closer to a dead body, if anything. And it was all because of that fucking Heiwajima Shizuo that went berserk just because he beat some shit out of Orihara Izaya. Nejima Katsu rushed to retrieve the first aid kit from the shelf in the corner, and scrambled for the bottle of disinfectant and bandages.

"… What exactly happened?"

"Oh, just a slight miscalculation in my plan. I was originally just planning to see how strong this Heiwajima Shizuo, beast of Ikebukuro was, and he –"

"Slaughtered you." Nejima finished for him, as Eisuke hissed at the rough wash of the disinfectant.

"That's not- owwww. But yes, he was surely a man with a powerful caliber. I was convinced that he was a monster when his eyes went bloodshot, I swear. But with that much strength, I think this might actually be worth a try."

The other executive remained quiet for a few seconds, as he focused on wrapping the bandage around Eisuke's broken leg. "You really are insistent on helping that Izaya, aren't you."

"Mm, I have my reasons. I don't like how Masamune was promoted, for one thing." Eisuke stretched his bruised, cracked arms. "That geezer, he's literally who he is today because of Izaya's information. Ninety-nine percent Izaya's work, I tell you. And now, because he's a toothless beast, he's trying to recover that source. A true masterpiece of trash, I assure you."

"It was a terrible idea to face Heiwajima Shizuo with pure strength, Eisuke-san."

"I know that, like I said. I learnt my lesson." He proceeded to stare at Nejima. _You have no idea why I'm helping Izaya. You have no idea, Katsu._ "Hey, Kacchan."

"Yes, Eisuke-san?"

"Let me ask you something. It's a relatively easy question. Shouldn't be a challenge."

"… Sure."

Eisuke turned his steel-cold auburn eyes to the other male, and opened his mouth, gazing at his reflection in the metal tongs that held a cotton swab stained with his own blood.

"That day, when Izaya escaped…"

Silence progressed through the room, before the inquiry arrived.

"Why did you let him out?"

* * *

 **A/N: … I'm sorry that it's short. Is it supposed to be short? Yes, that's how I planned this chapter to be. Is it supposed to be kind of boring? … I thought this chapter was boring. I don't know how it was for all of you guys, but it really is a necessary chapter for plot development, so… I can only hope that you guys are okay with this update.**

 **I'm really sorry again – I'm just overcome with exhaustion and a terrifying writer's block. Thanks for being patient with me.**

 **Todoka Ayane**


	12. Please Don't Make Me Fall in Love

**A/N: Hi, everyone! Thanks for all your positive feedback regarding my absence in Chapter 11. School starts in a few long days, but I'll try to keep this story as updated as possible.**

 **I thought this chapter would give you guys an idea how this story will be divided into: it'll be according to the path Izaya and Shizuo take, from Yokohama, Sodegaura, and lastly Funabashi. More will be explained in the actual story.**

 **Just a reminder,** _ **don**_ **refers to the boss of a Yakuza Organization, in this case, Uesugi Kugaha, the don of the Uesugi-kai. This specific chapter includes some short Uesugi-kai scenes, mostly featuring the addition of information to the relationship of my two executives, Eisuke and Nejima. It may seem rather confusing, but it'll all be explained at some point of this story, so please just relax and enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Twelfth File:**

" **Please don't Make Me Fall in Love."**

"Why did you let him out?"

In that moment, Eisuke saw a flicker – a flicker of emotions flushing past Nejima that he had never seen prior till that day.

The long-haired executive didn't answer the given question, until he was finished treating the wounds.

"… He didn't belong here." Closing the first aid kit, Nejima moved along the room to return it to its original location. "And he would've escaped sooner or later, without my aid."

"You're surprisingly honest with this, being you."

"You're not a person to ask me a question without solid evidence, either."

Eisuke Kon fiddled with the pages of the novel that was lying on his right. "Are you sure it's safe to just come out on all the happenings of that day? Where's your confidence sprouting from, that I wouldn't report this to the _don?_ I am an executive, just saying." _Not that I'd ever tell him anything, anyway._

"I'm not going to say more than this unless you ask me to, Eisuke-san. And besides, if you really did want to report to Uesugi-san, you wouldn't have done it with blatantly interrogating me here." That explanation almost sounded like an alternation for saying _"I know you too well."_

"'Not unless you ask me to', huh. Obedient, aren't we."

Nejima, his attention slowly being focused at aggrandizing measures, turned to Eisuke. "I'm not exactly in the position to defy your orders, Eisuke-san. Even if you claim that you already repaid my debt."

 _You're so fucking persistent, Katsu._ Kon heaved a resilient sigh, fumbling for a cigarette inside his pocket. "I wish you'd move according to your own conviction, Katsu."

In that split second, Eisuke Kon was unaware of the inaudible response of Nejima Katsu that arrived:

" _You_ are _my conviction, Kon."_

* * *

" _By your definition, I'm a monster anyway, so I might as well prove your point."_

"That fucking beast."

Orihara Izaya muttered in silence as he stepped out of the steaming shower, a white towel wrapped around his bruised waist. His mobility was becoming a slight problem as time advanced, but it wasn't anything unbearable. What he was much more frustrated at, at that particular moment, was the incredulity of Shizuo's arrogant proclamation before.

"What's with that look, anyway? We've known each other for at least 8 years and I've never seen him like _that_." _Almost as if…_ "As if he cares." The raven paused, and then snorted at the level of humor contained within that statement. Heiwajima Shizuo and 'caring' weren't exactly contradictory words, given a proper direct object. But when that object became Orihara Izaya, it was like saying that oil and water are mixable. In which, they aren't.

He brushed a fresh towel over his hair, drippy and wet. The reflection of him in the mirror seemed like the epitome of disgust – cuts were scattered over his pale skin, dotted with bruises of differing colors, like a dirtied palette.

"Flea, if you're having another tea party with yourself in the bathroom, I'd appreciate it if you stop."

"Tea party my ass."

Shizuo snickered as he walked past the bathroom, getting prepared to cook dinner. "Flea, want coffee?"

"If you're asking if I want coffee over your unappetizing dairy products, then sure."

The blonde rolled his eyes as he picked up the pot. "I'm pretty sure there were nicer ways of expressing thanks."

"Well, I apologize that my intelligent mind is too pure to announce lies to your soul."

The constant bickering reminded the informant of how this became his ordinary lifestyle – _this_ was where he felt secure. Whether that was because the physically monstrous strength of his business partner was singlehandedly confirmed by a plausible majority, including himself, or because it was simply Heiwajima Shizuo by his own existence that calmed Izaya – he didn't know.

He really hoped it wasn't the latter, by any chance.

Propping his injured body in the chair, Izaya shook his head and sat down. Scanning the neatly set meal, he smirked. "Shizu-chan, you'd make a good housewife."

"And you'd be a terrible husband, flea." Shizuo shot back, shoving a spoonful of rice down his own mouth. Even when he ate, he devoured his food as if there was no tomorrow.

"I have reasons for being asexual all these years." _Actually, I think that might be changing but let's ignore that for now._ "And please, you've never seen me as a husband."

The taller male looked up and gave him a puzzled frown, which changed into an unreadable expression, as he shrugged. "It's something I'd like to see someday."

That resulted in a frozen Orihara, and a peaceful-looking Heiwajima. "Are you flirting with me, Shizu-chan?"

"Mm," Shizuo finished chewing the remnants of his food. "Who knows."

 _This bastard._ He felt color rushing to his face – a burning, dark blush of red. _Heiwajima Shizuo you fucking_ _ **bastard**_ _._

"Hah…" Izaya groaned, almost burying his beetroot face into the leftover rice and miso soup. "I really hate you, Shizu-chan."

"Strong negativity is equivalent to strong positivity."

" _Fuck_ that."

Orihara Izaya didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. He was the puppet master of these games, not Shizuo. He was the teaser, Shizuo just needed to shut his potty mouth and be a violent beast and surprise him. But oddly enough, he didn't exactly despise this situation either – and he specifically _abhorred_ that point.

"By the way, is there anything I need to know further about the… Sugiue-kai?"

"It's Uesugi."

"Same difference."

Grunting in exasperation, the thin male clanked his spoon against the glass bowl. "It's not like you're going to remember anything I tell you, Shizu-chan."

"Well, that was before –" Shizuo abruptly stopped mid-sentence, the wrinkles between his brows vanishing like lightning as if he realized what he was about to say. "… I might remember at least one-third of it. And one-third is better than nothing."

"Eh," Twirling his spoon in his palm, Izaya looked at the ceiling aimlessly, and spoke. "I guess you do have a point there. You should be glad that I'm giving out _any_ information for free, Shizu-chan. It means you're special."

"Special." A smug smirk on his face, Shizuo folded his arms over his sky blue T-shirt.

Izaya added, "In a bad way."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm special."

"The Nazis were special and it wasn't in a good way either, just saying."

With a relinquishing roll of eyes, the fortissimo gave into the game. "Fine, I'll give that round to you. But will you just get to that fucking piece of information?"

"Well, I explained the executives and their line of business before. Oh, and our next stop is Sodegaura. I told you how their trade routes go from Yokohama, Sodegaura, and then finally to Funabashi, right? Naturally, the formation rotates on some timely basis, but most of the time, one executive is in charge of one trading point. Of course, that doesn't mean they're always there – as far as my knowledge extends, all three executives favor staying behind at their major trading point, Funabashi. Probably due to the fact that it's where their don remains. My estimation for the next formation placement… there's a very high chance that Nejima will be taking Sodegaura."

"Why's that?" Putting the finished dishes in the sink, Shizuo inquired.

"Nejima and Eisuke's guard points are always right next to each other, that's why. I've never witnessed a case where Nejima was at Funabashi, while Eisuke was at Yokohama. If Eisuke is at Funabashi, then Nejima would be at the point right next to it – Sodegaura."

The blonde snorted as he listened with greater concentration levels than he ever possessed during his high school years. "They sound terribly intimate for a bunch of gangsters."

"Mm…" Izaya ceased his speech for a terse few seconds, and tilted his head to the side. "Well, 'intimate' wouldn't be quite the jackpot, but their relationship is definitely… unique. Abnormal, if anything. I never meddled with the two's business, even when I was stuck with the organization – I was too preoccupied to care. But they weren't always close, that's for sure."

"What's that? It's so confusing."

"For your protozoan brain, I wholeheartedly understand."

Shizuo gave him an irritated look, as he slammed the mugs of coffee down on the surface of the table with a little too much power. "Shut up, flea. Oh, right. How about that Goshiki dude?" He did not miss how Izaya's body grew slightly stiffer at the mention of that name. "I don't really know anything, but I know he's not good news for you." Volume decreasing, Shizuo wiped the droplets of coffee he spilt before, avoiding eye contact with the raven.

"It's not like he's 'not good news' or whatsoever." Izaya stared at his wavering reflection in the beverage below. The shaky Orihara Izaya in the coffee seemed like the reality, while the one keeping a silent yet unstable front being the fantasy of his dreams _(because dreams always shattered)_. "… My mom. She sold me for her debt that she owed to the organization. Nothing more, nothing less."

Shizuo stilled, all movement locked away. For a nanosecond, he doubted his ability to hear. "She… _what_?"

"Sold me. For her debt." Through gritted teeth, words were uttered. They were words he desperately implored to never be grouped together again. It was like an unnecessary update reminder that continuously popped up – something important, yet something you never wanted to see again. "Of course, that's not what she told me. She lied, and I don't really mind it at this point. She never came back for me either – and if she did, she wasn't very eager." _I'm rambling._ His breathing became hitched, as her nonexistent hair brushed against the bridge of his nose. Her eyes. Her eyes – cold, faking pity, feigning love. That's how she was imprinted in his mind, during his premature days. Was that just a memory he created out of animosity, or the truth?

 _Shizuo doesn't need to know this. It's absolutely inconsequential information for him, and also awfully personal. I'm fucking rambling, for heaven's sake. He wouldn't care. He's not supposed to care. And I'm aware of that. I'm not supposed to_ _ **hope**_ _that he'd care. No. No. Nononono_ **no** –

"Izaya."

He didn't notice that fact that Shizuo was in right ahead of him, or the point that his chair was turned to face Shizuo either. The arch nemesis' hand was over Izaya's mouth, and his determined auburn eyes were phenomenal – phenomenally beautiful.

The informant's fingers curled around Shizuo's hand that was touching his lips. He began to talk, his voice coming out as a muffled mess. "Don't cover my mouth, Shizu-chan."

"You looked like you were spurting nonsense." His tone was deep, just as the color of his orbs. Izaya didn't know how to define the fluttering sensation inside his stomach. "Not aloud, if that's where you're going attack me. But I can't exactly stop your trail of thought." He let his hand fall to his side, but his gaze was glued to Izaya.

"Is it bad if I'm mentally spurting nonsense?" The other bit the inner corner of his lip, his complexion bitter. "It shouldn't be anything out of the ordinary for you."

"I know that." Shizuo crouched down, so that his eye level matched Izaya's. "But I don't really like you with that face, either. It doesn't make me irritated."

Befuddled, Izaya's left brow twitched. "But that's a good thing."

"I'd rather be irritated than see you glum, Izaya." With that, he departed the dining room and headed to brush his teeth, leaving Izaya alone.

 _He'd rather be irritated than see me glum?_ "Are you a masochist or what?" _That damned protozoan. He doesn't even know what he's talking about._ A stretched out, exhausted sigh evaded the lone male, as he stood on his two feet. The tingling feeling of Shizuo's palm – warm, rough, yet oddly comforting – remained on the tip of his chapped lips, as if it was begging to be noticed.

 _I really shouldn't be relieved._ Izaya clutched the middle of his chest, nervously grasping onto the smooth cloth of the shirt.

 _But I am._

* * *

"Hey, Katsu."

"… Goshiki-san."

"Deployed to Sodegaura, are you? Expected, since Kon was at Yokohama, I suppose."

"… I guess." Running his fingers through his silky brown hair that cascaded down his back, Nejima leaned on the wall as he twisted his head sideways to admire the sunset outside. "Are you guarding Funabashi, Goshiki-san?"

"Yeah, for the next two months, apparently." Goshiki said as he lighted his freshly opened cigarette. "Make sure nothing happens while you're there. Sodegaura _is_ one of our main trading points, after all. You know how the don is impatient right now because of the guys from the Minami-kai."

"Right…" Half-listening to the warning, Nejima proceeded to examine the files he printed out again. "I'll make sure nothing happens."

A puff of smoke created a light gray trail towards the sky. "I heard Eisuke crashed a job. How's that going?"

"… He just got into some complicated mess, that's all. It's nothing we can't handle." His words barely audible but enunciated with stress, the younger executive made sure his point was clearly made. "Eisuke-san is perfectly capable."

A miniature cloud forming in the atmosphere, Goshiki snorted and slumped down on their leather couch. "You're always so defensive when it comes to Kon. Well, I bet he seems all almighty to you because he basically scooped up your ass from hellfire." Nejima crinkled his nose and prepped himself to escape the other executive. "But Katsu – always remember, that we're all nothing more than a bunch of bloodsucking bastards to the universe. That doesn't exclude you, or your hero Kon."

"I never asked for it to be that way, and it will never happen. And please don't selfishly judge my personal opinion about Eisuke-san – it's not your business, to bluntly say." Nejima snapped, snatching his bag from the wooden chair in the corner of the office. "… Or perhaps, you're still pissed about being unable to track the whereabouts of Izaya down?"

 _Touché,_ thought Katsu, as the cigarette Goshiki had pursed between his lips broke in half, the once burning portion falling helplessly to the ground. He was shrewd enough the switch his gears and wear a complacent smile on his usually stoic face. "Of course that couldn't be the case. You're not such a draggy man, Goshiki-san."

"… Ah."

"Well, if you'll excuse me. I'll be leaving for Sodegaura now – please have a nice evening." The heavy door closed with a metallic click behind him, the cheap light flickering above his head.

 _Come, Izaya._ He shut his eyes, and gripped the handle of his bag tightly. _Just like how I let you go all those years ago,_

 _I'll let you in once more._

* * *

"I asked Tom-san if we could borrow his car again, and he said yes."

"Great, so we at least have our transportation secured. The time it takes from Ikebukuro is about the same as Yokohama, so I don't think we'd need to rush it. If there's something I'm concerned about, it's the exact fact that we're using the same car as last time. I don't think they figured out it was ours yet, especially since we barely got anything from our previous trip." Izaya typed away at his laptop, Shizuo sitting next to him with a cup of warm milk. "But there's absolutely no way that they're going to ignore the details, like last time. Naturally, I could easily predict that Eisuke would predict that we'd come, but Nejima is the real deal. You'd probably never be as sharp as him after a gazillion nirvanas, Shizu-chan."

"Oh, fucking shut it. I'm atheist."

"And so am I. But that's not the matter right now. In case you forget, or have already forgotten – the mission's point is not to obstruct, but observe. The Sodegaura base is not hidden in a secret passage – it's out in the open, disguised as your any other normal edifice-like structure. My sources show a concentrated location, so I have a rough idea where it is. The problem here is that our previous plan wouldn't work this time –"

"It didn't work last time either."

"Bleh. You're messing with my focus. What I want to say, is that this is where we're going to shatter our priorities and get to what you excel at – what you were born for, Shizu-chan." Izaya's thin smile heightened with a sly motion, and Shizuo huffed a prideful breath, setting his cup down on the table.

"Kick _ass_."

"Accurate." With a confirmative nod, Izaya continued. "But we do need you under control. Obviously given the circumstances, we're going to infiltrate the base during midnight, when population density is at its lowest in the vicinity. We can't afford to attract attention – although that could be used effectively in certain cases, this isn't due to the fact that we're already crushing our primary goal – to stay undercover."

Shizuo hummed an agreeable sound, as he took another sip at the drink. "I don't want to get innocent civilians involved either. Let's go with that."

"Whatever floats your boat," His laptop shut downward softly, Izaya stretched his arms to take a brief break from his work. "You need to know, I mean, you're stupid, but you really need to be aware of the fact of how much we're putting at stake for this Sodegaura mission. Unlike the Yokohama point, this operation heavily relies on your ability rather than mine. Nejima is the weakest amongst the executives – instead of trying to fight him with tactics, we'll break through with that straightforward strength of yours."

"I'll look over the part where you called me stupid. But sounds like a plan – is that Nejima guy really nothing but all brains?" The buff man frowned in slight bewilderment – he certainly didn't sound like a huge deal, if someone were to strip him naked of his mental capabilities.

Izaya rubbed his chin with two fingers and tried to recall his time at the Uesugi-kai. "He's a good sniper. Anything that requires some attentiveness, really. Shizu-chan's not weak to kill with a few bullets, because to be honest, you're practically just a beast – just avoid the vital parts, alright? If you die, that pretty much means mission fail."

"Yeah, thanks for worrying." The words casually slipped from Shizuo, causing Izaya to snap.

"I am _not_ worried."

"Hm?" The Heiwajima blinked, and then shrugged. "Oh. Well, whatever. I'm worried."

Scrunching his face, the informant slumped forward as his chin balanced his body on the chair he was seated on. "You're worried about dying?"

"No, not that." The other jutted his jaw at the red-eyed man. "I'm worried about you dying."

"If you're implying that I'm a _fragile_ damsel in distress –"

"I was always the only one." Shizuo cut him off, as all anger dissipated from Izaya's expression. "When I was younger, you know. I didn't know how to control this monstrous, inhumane power. I caused trouble with every inch that I moved, with every breath I inhaled. I made a fucking mess out of everything, and went berserk with some petty provocation. And you know, every time I made a shitty pile of idiotic stuff, there'd be consequences. Of course, I was hurt – it sounds unbelievable, I know. Not really much physically – compared to the people that were traumatized by me, at least. Much more mentally. It pressured me. It affected the reputation of my parents, and our financial status. I'm not sure if Kasuka had to go through anything because of what I did, but it's certain that he had to be influenced in some way." He paused, and mused about how his voice was a lot calmer than he thought it'd be. It was his first time that he ever told anyone about his past – it wasn't like it was some private secrecy or whatever – it couldn't even be considered one, because records remained – but he had never said all, or most of it, aloud.

And really, he'd never imagined the first audience would be none other than Orihara Izaya, his once mortal enemy.

The blonde smirked. "How's that – did I prove myself to be a monster now?"

"No."

Surprisingly enough, both men were taken aback by the speedy reply. Izaya didn't seem to realize he had voiced his true thoughts until it was released free in the open for the other to hear. His hand shook in midair, as if it had lost its destination, until it found the back of Izaya's neck in discomfort. "That did the exact opposite effect. You suck at convincing people, you protozoan."

Said protozoan put his hands in his pockets, staring at the wall. The living room light was dim, and the air conditioner was resonating with a low vibrato motion. "Heh."

"Monsters don't try to put their mindsets in other's shoes. Nor do they attempt to pay attention to their surroundings, or care for their environment." Izaya stood up from the chair and gazed into Shizuo's eyes. "If you really were a monster in that way, you wouldn't be making that expression right now."

"Oh yeah?" The gruff man challenged, tilting his head to the side out of habit. "Tell me."

 _Your eyes. I was always enraptured by the attractiveness of your eyes. An addictive auburn. Like a drug._ Taking an indecisive, circumspect step forward, Izaya raised his arm to touch the left of Shizuo's neck – their eyes were connected as one, like an unbreakable chemical bond. "You know, I hate your eyes, Shizuo." His smile was weak, bittersweet, tinted with crimson. _I hate how they make me never want to look away._ His fingers curled around the edge of Shizuo's neck, the warmth of the male's skin spreading all over his body as they touched.

The blonde relaxed his shoulders, as he gradually, but definitely reached up his own hand to grasp Izaya's that was in contact with his skin. _His hand is cold._ His hold grew tight and trembled with determination. "I hate your eyes too, Izaya." _I hate how despite my lingering hatred that remains for you, the flaming redness warps me into an inferno of emotions._ Slowly removing Izaya's hand from his neck, he relocated it near his mouth so that the raven's skin brushed his lips. _His smell, his devilish personality._

 _I need it all, with me._

"We really do hate each other a lot, don't we." Izaya let out a breathy laugh, internally detesting how he desired his hand to stay there, with Shizuo, for a lasting eternity, in this room.

"Yeah."

 _For all that I want, Shizu-chan…_

 _Please don't make me fall in love._

* * *

 **A/N: I'm not going to lie – no matter what anybody says, I absolutely loved writing this particular chapter. Maybe it's because Nejima and Eisuke got a little more spotlight in this one (because I really like writing about them, if any of you noticed) – but I think that the Shizaya development in this chapter made me tremble in delight while typing up the scenes. I know I did say I'd made this a slow-build kind of story, but really – authors get super impatient too. So yay, romantic stress relief!**

 **Of course, please tell me if there's anything that seems off about the chapters, and I'll try to correct my mistakes. Constructive criticism is always my pleasure! If not, then please leave some comments about how you guys felt this chapter as well – if you want to, of course!**

 **Thank you for your support, guys!**

 **Todoka Ayane**


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